


Our Troubles Will Be Out of Sight

by inkbert



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Exes, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Holiday Traditions, Holidays, Lewis family, egg nog, sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:33:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 28,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9244505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkbert/pseuds/inkbert
Summary: Darcy and Steve head to the Lewis family home in Vermont for Christmas. It's been planned for months, and the fact that Darcy and Steve's relationship just imploded doesn't have any bearing on the fact that outside of the Tower, Darcy has to have security. No one else is available to take the job, and Darcy is NOT dragging Steve home to meet the family (finally) only to tell them that surprise, they're broken up and he's here as her body guard only. The obvious solution? Wait until after the holidays to break the bad news.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Meerrrrrryyy Christmas. Ahahaha. This is why I didn't sign up for the Holiday Fic Exchange. Hopefully everyone can do with a little more Christmas fluff. I took a break from the Darcy/Bucky fic, Neighbor Alligator, to write this guy. I'll be diving back into that now. So there were heartfelt pleas for Shieldshock fluff on Tumblr by people who make my dash a more interesting, lovely place. Requests included fake dating and bed sharing. So here we are. :)

“No.” Darcy shakes her head and slams the lid of her suitcase closed. “Fuck no. Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, really reasonable, Darce,” Steve bites out. He’s standing like he’s at drill inspection. She hates when he gets all stuffy and puffed up. Pet peeve number 15 about Steven Grant Rogers. She needs to add that to the list stat.

“Okay, did you just hear what you said?” Darcy reaches for the suitcase again, desperate for something to do, then spins away because she’s not going to keep packing like this is all perfectly normal. “Because you are fucking insane if you think that’s something that is going to happen. Seriously, I’ll walk you down to medical to get a full body scan.”

Steve sighs. Those long suffering sighs are number three on her _Reasons Steven Grant Rogers is the Literal Fucking Worst_ list, subheading _Why was I ever with him anyway???_ Maintaining the list is the only thing keeping her from breaking down.

She’d been one hundred percent there, yeah, let's break up, at the time. It had been instinct. He doesn’t want her? Well she doesn’t want him, so there. Super mature, she knows. As soon as FRIDAY had shut the door to his apartment behind her? All her bluster had abandoned her.

Darcy manages to bite her tongue. She’d already lost it on him when they’d broken up. She’d yelled nasty things. She’d cried pathetically. Then she’d gone back to screaming.

She’d decided she’s not wasting another second on his emotionally stunted ass.

“I’m sorry you’re unhappy with the options available to you,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. Steve can be a real asshole. It’s funny when it’s directed at prying secret agencies or megalomaniacal bad guys. It’s downright enraging at times like this.

“Look, Mr. Roboto, I know you probably can’t compute real, live feelings, but allow me to explain. There is no fucking way I’m taking you home to my family that’s excited to meet you as my boyfriend, only to explain that ha ha, we broke up and you’re stuck being my security escort because half the team had holiday plans on the other side of the universe.” Darcy yanks open her suitcase and tips it over, spilling everything back out again. “It would have been bad enough explaining that we broke up, but if you’re there? Lurking? My family won’t know how to treat you, and it will be so awkward that I would rather die, thanks.”

He stiffens further. She’s sees it out of the corner of her eye.

But they aren’t together anymore, so she doesn’t have to listen to his lecture about exaggerating about death and how it doesn’t matter that it’s just a saying.

“I’ll just stay here.” She grabs the remote and jabs the power button. Music suddenly blasts through the speakers, angry rock music that had suited her mood last night. “You definitely know where the door is.”

That had been one of Steve’s complaints. How petty she was about things. Might as well prove him right.

She refuses the urge to turn and watch him leave. After a several minutes of silence on his part she turns and yep, he’s gone.

Which is just perfect, because he’d never had a problem walking out on her.

Darcy goes to the fridge and pulls out her pitcher of eggnog, ready to settle in for what is probably going to be her worst Christmas ever. Two weeks ago she’d waved Jane and Thor off blithely, all set to take Steve home to meet the fam and experience a Lewis Family Christmas.

One week ago they’d gotten into another one of their stupid fights. Why do they have to waste some of their limited time together going to boring Avengers-related obligations? Who is at fault for the leftovers that nearly grew legs in Darcy’s fridge when she had to make an emergency trip to Vanaheim? Did Steve _really_ have to go oversee Sam, Nat, and Scott in Beruit or was he just done fighting about Darcy’s off-world security?

Except that it was one fight too many apparently, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and things had ended in a giant explosion of suck. All the tears and hoarse yelling on Darcy’s part, all of the frustration and righteousness on Steve’s.

And now here she is, getting ready to spend Christmas alone. No sledding. No pie. No family.

She’s four rather large glasses in when she realizes that she needs to call home.

“Fuck.” Darcy fights her way free of her nest of blankets. “Kill the TV, FRIDAY.”

She scans the surfaces around her, searching for her phone. After checking in between the cushions and shaking out her blanket she’s cursing quietly. She is a ball of fucking sunshine, but she clings to her rage because when it bails she’s just going to be left with the hurt.

Her phone is sitting next to the almost empty eggnog pitcher in the kitchen, dangerously close to a puddle of orange cheese sauce from her Kraft Mac N Cheese dinner.

Then she’s staring down at her parent’s landline phone number, the same one she’d learned to recite in preschool. She does not want to have this conversation. They’ll be disappointed she’s not coming, they’ll have a hundred questions, and then there will be the _pity_. Gods, the pity.

After Ian, she can’t take the pity again. Damn Steve. She’d told him in the beginning she wanted to take things slow. She’d kind of spilled her guts, and told him all about Ian, and how she didn’t want to be hurt again.

She realizes she knows exactly what to say. There’s one thing Steve had done for her. “Thanks, Steve. You’re the fucking best,” she mutters.

She taps the call button, then listens to the ring.

“Happiest of Holidays, you’ve reached the Lewis Residence!”

“Katie?” Darcy hazards a guess as to which of her nieces or nephews had issued the overly loud greeting.

“Aunt Darcy! Aunt Darcy! Grandma, it’s Aunt Darcy!”

Darcy holds the phone away from her ear, but the squeals are still completely audible.

They finally cut off, and Darcy cautiously brings the speaker back to her ear. “Hello?”

“Darcy?”

“Mom, hi.” Darcy shifts her weight from foot to foot, then starts to pace down the hallway. “Look, something important came up, and-”

“Darcy, I hope you aren’t saying that you can’t come home for Christmas.”

“What?” Darcy actually stops in surprise. Her mother is the most understanding person the planet.

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I’m sure if you can’t be here, you have a very good reason.” Elizabeth Lewis lowers her voice, and the sounds of kids chattering in the background fades. “It’s just there are a couple of things that we need to talk about as a family. In person.”

Darcy feels alarm flutter through her at her mother’s tone. “What things? Is everyone okay? Is it Daddy?”

“Your father is fine. Some of it does concern your nana’s health. And Nadia need us right now.”

“Shit.” And the award for being completely self-involved goes to Darcy Lewis.

“It’s not your responsibility. Nadia understands, of course. You have your own life, and we know that you and Steve both have things that come up.” Her mother’s voice is picking up steam, cheer and determination strengthening it. “Everyone will understand.”

“No.” Darcy shakes her head, pressing her hand into her stomach. “No. I’ll work something out. Forget I even called.”

“Are you sure?” Her mother can’t hide the relief in her voice.

“Positive.”

Darcy goes back to the kitchen and dumps the last of the eggnog into her glass. Then she verifies Steve’s location with FRIDAY - the gym, of course - and takes off through the halls, eggnog in hand.

With everyone else gone, the tower has the feel of a hotel. Anonymous and insulated from the outside world. Almost like the things that happened here in this twilight zone would not count somehow. Darcy smiles bitterly.

Before she even reaches the doors to the gym Steve prefers she can hear the thump of his fists against the punching bag. It’s a familiar sound to her, she’d spent many evenings down here, trying to spend some time with him. They’d had some pretty good times in the darkest corner, with FRIDAY’s privacy protocols engaged.

The rapid thumps stop as soon as she opens the door. That’s a change. How ironic, to earn his full attention they’d only needed to break up.

She wants to stomp over there and tell him what’s going to happen. But she knows the man is stubborn, gods does she know it.

“We have to go Vermont,” Darcy says, not quite managing to keep the sour resentment from her voice.

“I said I was willing to go.” Steve grabs a towel and wipes his face. His shirt clings to his body, which is entirely unfair. “I never wanted to make you miss Christmas.”

Darcy hides the flash of anger his words cause by taking another drink. She’d never been able to explain to him any way he could understand that the way he always acted like he was being very reasonable was infuriating.

“We can’t be broken up.” Darcy fights to keep her voice steady. “I can’t have you there as my ex. If I could take anyone else with me, I would, and I’d just lie until after the holidays. But I can’t, so you’re going to have to come and we’re going to have to play nice for the weekend.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious. I told you about Nadia’s postpartum depression, and now apparently something is wrong with Nana. Everyone was so excited to meet you. I’m not going home and bringing shitty news and dragging along an awkward as fuck situation as well.”

“Lying to them is somehow the better way?”

“It is. You don’t know them, I do.” Darcy tosses back the last of her eggnog. “Do you remember the last time we were down here?”

“Darcy. Don’t.” His hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck.

They’d had another fight. Darcy’s security detail while she was in Europe with Jane, his extended trip to DC, where the hell her phone charger had ended up. But they’d ended up having really good sex in the locker room.

“You promised you’d do anything for me. And while that very obviously wasn’t true in the slightest, I’m asking you for this one thing.”


	2. Chapter 2

They’re both undercover on the flight. Steve had insisted, and it was a compromise. He’d wanted to drive. Six hours alone in the car with him? Nope. No way. Not happening. 

He’s grown out his scruffy beard, has on a pair of hipster glasses, and some clothes that are trying their hardest to minimize his broad shoulders and narrow hips. Darcy has on a blonde wig and comfortable clothing that adds about four sizes. Their credentials are in the shadowy world of legal once you get up umpteen levels of government. 

At this point, Darcy doesn’t care. He’d taken a roundabout route, he’d checked in with a trusted team, and he’d guided her through the airport with a hand on her back. Whatever, she wants to find her seat and pull her book out of her purse and ignore his existence.

When they do find their seats, she can’t relax. Mostly because he’s so tense, he’s drawing concerned looks from the flight crew. 

“Would you  calm down ?” Darcy mutters at him, pulling the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands. Why are airplanes always so cold? 

“Security, remember?” 

“This is a low risk mission, soldier.” Darcy pulls out her headphones, trying not to get annoyed as a lady across the aisle tries to force her carry on into the overhead bin. “I attended the briefing, remember?” 

She’d missed girls’ lunch out with Pepper and Jane since Steve had insisted. 

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Just tone it down a little before you get us kicked off the flight,” Darcy  hisses , then puts in her headphones. 

The Steve Rogers she’d met ten months ago had not had such a huge stick up his ass. She could clearly remember those first few months. There had been Chinese food in bed, and a great afternoon at the St. Patrick’s day parade. He’d flown out to see her in New Mexico during a research trip and he’d followed her all over town.

Darcy gets that he might have a point about her not taking things seriously enough. She’s not blind to her own faults. Sometimes she’d been a shitty girlfriend, blaming him for things out of his control. But she swears that he used to laugh at her jokes, and now he wears a permanent frown.

And that had only been the first of many, many issues in their doomed relationship. 

They are not attacked on the plane. Or  kidnapped  while retrieving their baggage. Darcy refrains from telling him it must be a Christmas miracle. 

Darcy stomps on his foot when he tries to take her bag because she’ll be damned if he’s going to act like the perfect boyfriend when no one is around to see it. 

The airport is a mess. A long line of traffic snakes through the pick up lanes, slowly searching for a place to temporarily park and load or unload bags and passengers. People rush around, pulling rolling suitcases and hefting heavy carry-on bags. 

Darcy digs her phone out and messages her mother only to learn that her brother and sister had been sent to get them. So she messages Rachel. 

“Rachel and Kevin are in line. They’re in Kevin’s Jeep. It’s blue.” Darcy raises up on her tiptoes, trying to peer down the long line of cars.  Snow was supposed to be starting any minute.

It takes half an hour before Darcy sees her sister waving wildly through the open passenger window of her brother’s Jeep. Her nose is numb from cold, and dusk has fallen. Snowflakes are drifting down, big enough that they take a second to melt against her skin and collect on the sleeves of her coat.

“There they are. Come on.” Darcy grabs her suitcase and hurries forward. She never realizes how much she misses home until she’s almost there.

Steve catches up to her at the trunk, quickly lifting her suitcase into the back of the Jeep before people can start honking at them for holding up traffic. Darcy darts forward to slide into the backseat, desperate for the warmth of the car.

“If this doesn’t prove our love for you, nothing will,” Rachel says caustically. Her hair is braided into a crown, complete with flowers. 

“She begged to come along,” Kevin reveals, smiling at Darcy in the rearview mirror as he edges the Jeep forward after Steve’s door is pulled shut. “Mom hid the alcohol because everyone got tipsy off Nana’s rum cake.”

“Nana also gave the kids three bags of chocolates and told them to go play.” Rachel turns in her seat. “I didn’t even realize we had that many kids now.”

“It’s the same amount of kids as last year.” Darcy rubs her hands together, trying to restore feeling. “Unless I got really left out of the loop.”

“Still six.” Kevin twists in his seat to look back at Steve when the traffic slows to a stop. “Hi. Sorry for our atrocious manners.”

“Steve, this is Kevin, he’s the baby of the family, and Rachel. Guys, this is Steve.” 

“I totally wanted to start a bet about Darcy meeting someone famous when she left home.” Rachel also turns in her seat, leaving both of Darcy’s siblings blinking back at her. Truth be told, they’re both more interested in Steve. “I would have made so much money, but my dad still likes to deny that Thor would have counted.”

“It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about all of you,” Steve responds stiffly. He’s totally thinking of going back on their agreement.

“Okay guys. A little less creepy would be awesome.” Darcy chirps. She’d had a whole plan on how to introduce Steve to her family. Because he has a lot of hang ups about fitting in the modern era, and about someone with as much baggage as him dating someone like her. 

Of course, back then she’d been introducing her boyfriend to her family. 

“Everything okay?” Kevin has zeroed in on Darcy now. Rachel pauses with a handful of mints halfway to her mouth. Kevin has always been the one best able to read all of them. He’d grown up being the emissary, sent into hostile territory to deliver peace offerings and feel the way for possible negotiations. 

“Ha!” Darcy snags Steve’s hand, clutching it tightly. “Fine. I’m fine, the airport was just kind of a mess.”

“Mom said you had some trouble getting here.” Kevin turns back around to edge forward again. “We’re glad you could make it.”

“ She deserves a warning. ” Rachel shoots a stubborn look at Kevin before turning back to Darcy. “Nick cheated. Nadia has left him.”

“What the fuck?” Darcy demands, all her nerves leaving her to replaced with white hot rage. Rachel gestures at Darcy with both hands. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. The lady went to Nadia’s office to tell her when she found out that Nick was actually married.” Rachel forces a smile. “Apparently she cried.”

“When did this happen?” Darcy’s mind races. Nick had been family for over a decade, since even before he’d married Nadia. Fourteen year old Darcy had totally had a crush on her oldest sister’s boyfriend. He’d slid right into the family like he belonged. He’d always been dedicated to Nadia and their kids.

It’s hard to  even wrap her mind around it. He’d been so steady during Dad’s stay in the hospital after the heart attack. And he’d been so fucking determined and supportive about helping Nadia through the postpartum depression Nads had been diagnosed with three months after Aubrey’s birth. Nine months after that and he’s cheating?

“Nadia found out last week. She took the rest of the week off,” Kevin answers. “He’s called a few times to talk to the kids, but Nadia isn’t talking to him. She already contacted a friend at her firm who is a divorce lawyer.” 

“How is she?” Darcy asks softly. She’s overwhelmed by grief and anger. She can’t imagine how Nick could do this, can’t imagine him doing it at all. Nadia and Nick had been the most romantic couple ever to a younger Darcy. Overpowering those feelings is worry for Nadia. 

“Not good,” Rachel says grimly. 

“As well as can be expected,” Kevin corrects. “She’s keeping it together in front of the kids, but she’s crying a lot. Aubrey’s too little to know anything is wrong, but we’re trying to keep Sara and Cole busy.”

“I mean, right before the holidays, right?” Rachel mutters.

“Sorry, Steve.” Kevin looks over his shoulder for a second before turning his attention back to the snowy highway. “This isn’t going to be the best welcome.”

“Like he cares. It’s always awkward meeting family, at least this way everyone is focused on something else.” Rachel points over her shoulder without looking. “How are you at handing out Kleenexes and pouring hot, preferably spiked, beverages? If that’s in your wheelhouse you’ll be a smash hit.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Jeep doesn’t have any trouble in the snow covered roads that wind through the mountains. Darcy feels increasingly settled the farther they drive, as she’s surrounded by the snow-laden evergreens and distant yellow lights of town. 

Eartha Kitt is on the radio and soon they’re passing the red barn mailbox Kevin had made as a Boy Scout project in middle school. 

Darcy straightens in her seat to peer through the windshield and the snow, not wanting to miss the first look at the house. 

The giant evergreen in the front yard is strung with lights and decorated with glittering baubles. The other evergreens scattered at the edge of the yard are lit as well, just not as resplendently as Big Green always is. The same big bulb lights her father had put up when she was a kid eager to flip the switch line the roof and windows. 

It’s beautiful. 

It’s home.

“Oooh there’s no place like home for the holidays,” Rachel sings in a saccharine voice, looking back at Darcy and fluttering her eyelashes, “cause no matter how far away you rooaammmmm-”

“Shut up, I was there when mom texted you that they weren’t decorating Big Green this year.” Kevin drags a hand over Rachel’s face, then dodges her attempt to lick him. “She was ignoring Mom’s calls before that, but she called back in less than a second.”

“That was cruel manipulation,” Rachel sniffs.

“Tell me there’s still eggnog. Mom wouldn’t have hid the eggnog,” Darcy demands. It’s a tradition for the three girls to ‘partake’, as their dad puts it, on the first night all three of them are back.

“Mom gave me a pitcher to hide in my fridge,” Kevin promises, pulling to a stop parked underneath the car port. Darcy ignores the fact that the mini fridge in Kevin’s room had a dark and frightening past during his high school Call of Duty years. Searching for her stolen candy bars in that fridge may have actually prepared her for the horrors she’d later find in lab fridges.“You guys will get your fix. Steve, are you a nog man?”

“I don’t like it as much as Darcy does, but I don’t hate it either.” 

“I can work with that,” Kevin tosses back as he lunges to grab Rachel’s door handle, holding the door shut despite her attempt to bolt. “Just in case you were going to forget again, remember we’re supposed to bring in more firewood.”

“I c-” 

Darcy forgets herself and stomps on Steve’s foot to stop him from offering to help. Rachel always finds ways to skip out on her chores. Literally, with her it’s an art form. Darcy has no doubt that her sister will have Steve hopping here and there all weekend with his old school manners making him not care in the slightest.

But she is not  initiating contact with him unless she absolutely has to.

As she drags her own luggage through the snow, Darcy realizes she may need to reevaluate the ways she shows her affection if  being angry at him means he can’t carry her shit and she can’t stomp on him.

Even with that new insight, when Steve quietly offers to take her bags on the stairs, she bites out an annoyed ‘no.’ Leaving her to haul it up as quietly as possible through the silent house.

He’s not winded in the least when they reach her bedroom, and Darcy’s fingers are aching and she’s huffing and puffing. 

Wisely, he finds something else to look at.

It’s the miniature tree her dad had set up in the corner of the room. There’s always a gift under it, to be opened early. It’s always the warmest, softest flannel pajamas. 

This year there are two.  Of course there’s one for her boyfriend Steve, the guy her family is over the moon happy to meet . Darcy bites back a curse and trudges over, plucking them both up. She tosses the one clearly marked ‘Steve’ towards him.

“I’m gonna change into my pajamas and head to Rachel’s room. We have a tradition with egg nog. The bathroom is through there, it’s a shared one and connects to her room.” Darcy sighs, unable to be a complete bitch and abandon him in a strange house. “Are you hungry? I’m sure there are leftovers downstairs.”

“I’m fine. Darcy-”

“Don’t even start.” Darcy cuts him off, knowing that tone. “We are not dumping our drama on them. Weren’t you paying attention in the car? Plus Mom said something’s up with Nana. There is more than enough Lewis family drama without throwing in our shitastic bodyguard situation.”

“It’s better for them to meet me as your boyfriend and welcome me to their home, only for us to break up as soon as we get home?” 

“Just try not to be too awesome as a boyfriend. Ha.” Darcy bears her teeth in a insincere smile, then sheds her coat and boots on the way to the bathroom. She wonders if he’ll pick them up and put them by the door like he used to, or if he’ll leave them despite how much it annoys him.

Someone has put a gingerbread candle in the bathroom, along with the candy cane nightlight that always got stuck next to their toothbrushes for the month of December. Darcy pulls the door shut and unwraps her pajamas. Her nana will never tell where she gets them, but they are the best.

This year Darcy’s are a pale gray plaid with a scottie running along the horizontal lines red ribbon trailing behind him. Darcy strips and hurriedly changes into the soft, warm flannel. She cracks the door for Steve so he’ll know she’s done and then makes for sanctuary with her sisters.

“Darcy.” Nadia stands and holds her arms out, smiling sleepily. “It’s so good to see you.”

Darcy hugs her oldest sister, smiling when she can detect the scent of Ralph Lauren’s  _ Midnight Romance _ , which had long been Nadia’s ‘signature scent’. Darcy’s signature scent is probably stale pop tarts and eau du accidental explosion. 

“I’ve missed you.” Darcy whispers. She should have visited again, after that first crazy weekend trip to meet baby Aubrey. She’d meant to. 

“Missed you too, baby sister.” Nadia pokes Darcy in the side as she steps back. “So I’m sure Rachel couldn’t keep her mouth shut and you know about Nick.”

“She told me.” Darcy winces. “Are you sure? I mean, I know the woman said so, but maybe it’s-”

“Nick confessed,” Nadia interrupts. “It had been going on for months. He made an online account just to see, he said. I don’t know if he went out on any other dates before he found her. I don’t want to know.”

“This is a conversation that calls for drinks,” Rachel declares loudly, holding up the pitcher of eggnog. 

“Shhh!” Nadia takes Darcy’s hand and leads her to the bed.

“Whatever, everyone knows we do this.”

“If you wake up one of my kids, you’re going to be the one taking them back to bed and doing the one more drink, I have to potty dance, not me. I’ll be here with Darcy, drinking your drink,” Nadia threatens. 

All three women quiet at an extended thump on the stairs. 

Nadia shakes her. “Also if your boyfriend does it.”

“Okay, you know what, we don’t know that that was Travis, right? Because Steve’s here now, and he’s not familiar with the house,” Rachel points out.

“Please.” Nadia pours Darcy a glass. “Travis has been as graceful as a newborn foal since the first day we met him.”

Darcy bites back a smile, because Travis is the clumsiest person she’s ever met. He broke the pane of glass in the front door the first time Rachel brought him home, and the resulting crash had been incredibly obvious because the whole Lewis family had been on the edge of their seats waiting to meet a guy Rachel would finally introduce to her family. They’d been dating for two years at that point.

But then she thinks of the times that  something had been or broken or had fallen that  _ was  _ loud enough to draw out the family, they’d usually find the guys down in the kitchen. Brady, Kevin, Travis and Nick. And Brady and Kevin are assholes, so it would usually be Nick trying to help Travis clean up whatever he’d broken while the two jerks laughed.

“Nadia, I’m really sorry.” Darcy curls her fingers in her sister’s hand. 

Nadia’s lips curl in a small, insincere smile. “Well, it’s not okay. I’m getting divorced, and we’re gonna have to tell the kids. But I don’t want to think about that right now. So tell us about Steve.” 

“And about living in Stark’s tower. Tell me there’s a robot like Rosie from the Jetsons.” Rachel leans forward, clutching her drink. “Tell me you never have to do the laundry. Do the doors open like the ones on space ships? Fake movie space ships, not real ones.”

“Do you even know how real space ship doors open?” Nadia questions, and Darcy can tell she’s latching onto the change of conversation.

“I figured it was one of those things that isn’t as cool in real life. Now shush, we’ve been waiting for Darcy get here and now you’re jabbering. Spill.”

Darcy manages to focus on the tower as they work their way through the pitcher of egg nog. She’ll need to get her head in the game tomorrow, but she’s really not capable of gushing about Steve yet. 

So she tells them about the in-wall laundry delivery system, which whisks dirty laundry away in a vacuum tube and returns it either folded or on a hanger in a hidden wall panel. She tells them about FRIDAY, who can control all of the electronic systems in the tower, and about the super fancy latte machine in the common kitchen.

She’s more than a little tipsy when she toddles through the connecting bathroom back to her own room. 

There is no way she’s sharing a bed with Steve. She’s a sleep cuddler, has been since birth. She’ll let him have the bed, and she’ll sleep on the floor. It will be fine, the carpet is super plush. 

She has to stand in the doorway for a second, to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Finally she can see well enough to make out her nightstand, and the chair where the suitcases were stacked. 

She shuffles forward and barely manages to stop in time when she spies a Steve-shaped lump on the floor. 

Of course he slept on the floor. Darcy knows that anyone else would think that was nice of him, but when you spend enough time with him and realize that he  _ always  _ does this shit, and it gives him this fucking impenetrable sense that he’s always right, that he’s always the good guy, then it gets real old real fast.

What an asshole.


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy comes awake suddenly, in that awful way where some kind of awareness of the shitty situation she’s currently in lightning bolts to life in her brain.

In this particular moment, that knowledge is that she always sleeps in later than Steve and he’s probably in the room with her because going downstairs alone to meet the rest of her family in the light of day without her would be awkward.

Sure enough, she twists her way out of her tangled blankets to find Steve sitting in her reading chair near the window. He’s bent over his tablet, but turns to look at her.

Darcy flops back, sure that her hair is knotted and drool is half-dried on her cheek. Her sense of self-worth can’t have him seeing her like this. Hidden by the covers she wipes a hand over her mouth and snatches a hair tie from the nightstand.

Then her eyes begin to scream and she realizes that she slept in her contacts.

She clears her throat and throws back the covers. “Give me a minute and then we’ll go down.”

After peeling her contacts off her dry eyes and brushing the dead animal smell from her mouth, she tries to ascertain if she feels like shit because of the nog or because she’d actually managed to wake at a decent time despite being up so late the night before.

She can’t tell for certain, and when she returns to the bedroom she can’t find her phone. It’s not on the nightstand where she should have put it last night, hooked up to charge.

“What time is it?” she finally croaks.

“A little after eight.”

“We didn’t miss breakfast. Sweet.” She turns for the door, shuffling in her socks. “Come on.”

“Darcy.”

She turns back, raising one brow at his sigh.

He stares back at her for a second, then sighs again. “I hate this. The way things are. I don’t feel like I can ask you if you’re okay.”

It’s Darcy’s turn to sigh. “I know you haven’t done the whole break up thing before, but this is how it is. I had a good reason for not wanting to bring you. I know how this goes. And no, you don’t get to ask me if I’m okay. As far as you get to know for the foreseeable future I am one hundred percent a-okay, never better, my skin is clear, my crops are thriving, capice?”

Steve’s frown deepens.

“You don’t get to know that I feel like you drop kicked my heart and maybe bashed on it a few times with your shield, because that would be you winning the break up.”

“Winning the-”

“I don’t make the rules, Steve. That’s just how it is,” Darcy interrupts, holding up a hand. Note to self, don’t say his name. She could do without the extra stabs to her heart. “Now come on, let’s go downstairs. Clare, Brady’s wife, always makes breakfast and she’s a chef. On Christmas morning she’ll make gingerbread french toast and I look forward to it all year. Forward march, soldier.”

Darcy doesn’t check to make sure he’s following. By the time she reaches the stairs she can hear the sounds of a full house. Squeals of laughter from the kids, the low tenor of her dad’s voice, and the music coming from the kitchen.

“Aunt Darcy! I’m a princess!” three-year-old Sara declares from her place in front of the television. Nadia’s middle child wears a sparkly blue Elsa gown and holds a red plastic axe. Brady’s youngest, two year old Matthew bounces along to music next to her. “Mattie is my deindeer!”

“Steve! You woke up!” Danny runs over but stops just short of throwing himself at Steve’s legs, overcome by sudden shyness. “Did you bring your shield? Dad said you might, but that it might not fit in your suitcase.”

“I want a shield!” Sara yells. “Santa! Santa!”

“Sorry pal, your dad was right. It didn’t fit,” Steve says and Darcy turns further away so her surprise is hidden.

Steve had lugged that shield on every single trip they’d taken, just in case he’d gotten a call.

“Mattie, don’t you want to meet Steve?” Darcy asks, because Princess Sara had taken off down the hall, still yelling for Santa.

Mattie looks at Steve with wide eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“Mattie, he just don’t got his mask on. He’s still Captain America,” Danny explains earnestly.

“How about giving your Aunt Darcy a hug? What about that?” Darcy squats down and opens her arms. It’s been six months since Brady had brought the kids to New York, plenty long enough for her grumpy, snuggly little nephew to have forgotten the rapport they’d had. She’s really hoping her frequent Skype calls count for something.

His small grin has her smiling in return, and then she’s got her arms full of a cuddly, sweet…sticky little boy.

“What is all over your hands?” Darcy asks, carefully pulling her hair free.

“I help!” Mattie beams.

“He iced some of the cinnamon rolls.” Brady holds up a washcloth. “He got away before I could get to him.”

“Awesome. Oh well, I needed to shower after breakfast  anyway.” Darcy takes a steadying breath and pastes a smile on her face. “Brady, this is Steve. Steve, this is Brady.”

“Sorry we missed you in New York.” Brady holds out a hand to shake.

“Me too.” Steve shakes Brady’s hand, stopping next to Darcy. “Something came up.”

“Let me know if certain parties become a little too much. They might be fans,” Brady says, then winks stepping back. “But I guess you knew what you were getting into when you started dating my sister.”

“Oh, ha ha. Come on, boys. Your dad thinks he’s funny.”

“Daddy is funny. He can talk like Donald Duck,” Danny tells her, but he does take the hand Darcy had offered.

“That _is_ the worldwide gold standard of humor,” Darcy tells him, heading down the hall towards the kitchen. She slows so Steve can catch up, because it’s full of the rest of her family.

Most of whom catch sight of them and stop what they’re doing.

“Greetings, family.”

“Felicitations!” Katie yells back.

“Katie likes big words.” Danny explains. “Can’t spell ’em though.”

“I’m _learning_ , Daniel. Mommy said you have to be nice.” Katie props her hands on her hips, directing an arch look at her brother.

“Enough, you two.” Brady squeezes between Darcy and Steve, plucking his youngest from Darcy’s arms as he passes.

“Anyway, family, this is Steve. Steve, family.” Darcy waves a hand to the still-staring crowd.

“Darcy Anne.” Her mother steps forward with an admonishing look for Darcy, and then a welcoming smile for Steve. “Hello Steve, we’re so happy you could come. I’m Elizabeth, Darcy’s mother. I promise we tried to teach them manners.”

“She didn’t. She lies. She taught us to make cookies so she could eat them.” Rachel passes with a cup of coffee.

Darcy lurches towards the coffee pot and its siren call.

“I take it you’ve already met Rachel,” Mom says, nonplussed. “There’s Nadia, she’s the oldest. She has Cole, Sara, and little Aubrey. And then Brady, he’s married to Clare. They have Katie, Danny, and Matthew.”

Steve smiles and gives a nod to each of them.

“Then there was Rachel, and for some reason we kept having kids after her, and we got Darcy, our little ball of sunshine in the mornings, and Kevin. Oh, and Travis is there, he’s Rachel’s boyfriend.”

“Who we like better,” Brady says from where he’s cleaning the icing off a squirmy two year old.

“Don’t mind me,” Dad says from where he’s slicing the cinnamon rolls. “Apparently I’m not important. Only her husband. Love of her life. Purchaser of the largest box under the Christmas tree, which has her name on it.”

“That’s Lawrence.” Mom waves her hand in his direction dismissively, then claps her hands together. “Okay everyone, let’s eat and then we can go pick out our tree!”

Darcy pours two cups of coffee, automatically doctoring one the way Steve likes. He deserves it for wading into the Lewis family madness, plus it’s something she would have done if they were still dating.

“More trees?” Steve asks when she hands his cup over and they join the line to get a cinnamon roll.

“One more. We always pick out a fresh tree from the woods for the living room and decorate it together.”

By the time they have their cinnamon rolls, the kitchen nook is full and the four bar stools at the island are also taken.

“Come on.” Darcy leads Steve over to the counter closest to the table and boosts herself up. After a second’s hesitation Steve follows suit, and soon Rachel and Travis join them.

“Youths,” Rachel mutters, tipping her head towards the kids destroying their cinnamon rolls at the island.


	5. Chapter 5

“Mom! Sara won’t stop singing the ho ho ho part! It’s not that song!” Cole yells from the back of the toboggan. 

“Ho ho ho!” Sara sings again.

“It’s not that song! It’s the bells song, Sara! Sing it right!” Cole demands as Sara happily kicks her feet, her tiny pink snow boots thumping against the bright blue plastic.

“Now Cole, there can never be enough hos,” Rachel says.

“Nice, Rach,” Clare mutters before raising her voice. “I know everyone wants to be nice to each other, and help each other learn. Why don’t we teach Sara another part to sing?”

“Ho ho ho!” Sara yells. 

Darcy turns, walking backwards in the snow, and Sara’s eyes focus on her. The toddler’s eyes flash mischievously, and her little cherub mouth opens.

“You better watch out!” Darcy points a finger at Sara with a flourish, “You better not pout!” 

Sara smiles in delight, and copies the shimmy Darcy does. 

It does stop the ‘ho ho hos’, but it also encourages Cole to sing at the top of his lungs. Daniel quickly follows his cousin’s lead from the other toboggan.

Travis had volunteered to pull the toboggan carrying Sara and Cole, and he’s huffing and puffing alongside Brady pulling his three kids. Nadia is carrying Aubrey in a baby carrier strapped to her chest. 

Darcy straight up stomps on the traitorous thought that Steve could pull a toboggan full of kids with no problem. That thought, complete with a couple blonde haired kids that are frankly highly unlikely given 1) the Lewis dark hair gene that had obliterated any other influences for a few generations now and 2) the fact that they aren’t dating anymore, yeah, that thought can go straight back to the hellfires  from whence it came .

Darcy and her dad had always been the ones most excited about Christmas music, so together they lead their little excursion in several rousing renditions of favorites like Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bells Batman Smells, and Frosty the Snowman.

Steve gamely sings along, but that might be because it keeps him from having to converse with the other adults that have fallen back to talk amongst themselves. Darcy can see him stiffen up anytime someone gets him one on one.

Finally, the snowmobile that Mom takes Nana up on comes into view. The kids all cheer, and Brady and Travis pick up a little speed. 

The tradition has always been that Mom and Nana ride ahead with a giant thermos of cocoa, which over the years has become two, and that Nana chooses the perfect tree. Nanas are, everyone knows, especially good at tree inspection. 

As an adult Darcy is well aware that this prevented any number of meltdowns over someone's preferred tree not being picked. 

The older kids scramble off the toboggans, eager to find the tree that has Nana’s golden bow tied to one of it’s branches. 

“You’re welcome!” Brady calls after them. 

“I take it you got stiffed on the tip again?” Clare asks, sliding her arm through his. 

“Damn cheapskates.” Brady tips his head back and lays his fist against his chest. “Don’t they know I’ve got three small children to feed at home?”

“Daddy.” Danny slides to a stop in front of his father.

“Did you find the tree already, bud?” Brady tugs the sides of Danny’s hat down over his ears. 

“I was thinkin’,” Danny starts, “that if we got  _ two _ dogs, they could pull us and then you wouldn’t get so red, Daddy.” 

“Are you saying I don’t do a good job pulling the sled?” Brady asks, hands on his hips. And he wonders where Sara gets it from.

“Not like Balto,” Danny answers solemnly. 

“Fair enough,” Darcy mutters as Brady scoops Danny up and Clare loses her attempt to hold in her laughter at her husband’s expense.

“I found it! I found it!” Katie yells. “It beautiful!” 

“So everyone over the age of twelve gets to take a swing at the tree. Then cocoa is poured while actual chopping commences,” Darcy tells Steve as they trudge up the slight incline. “Then Mom and Nana pull it home on the tarp, and we walk back. There are always surprise cookies that Nana brings for us to eat on the way back.”

“Surprise cookies? Is that a new kind of cookie?” he asks, his hand hovering briefly behind her back when her boot slips in the snow. 

“No. She just always acts like she doesn’t know what anyone is talking about if they ask about them, and then she ‘finds’ them in the bottom of her bag when she’s packing up the cocoa.”

“I can see why you were so excited to come home.” Steve looks around, taking a deep breath. It smells of pine and fresh, clean, snow. She’s not sure that snow actually has a smell, or if dampens all the other normal smells. It’s certainly a far cry from the city air they’re used to.

She turns in a slow circle, taking in the forest of evergreens with snow covered branches, and the mountains surrounding them. 

“I was excited to bring you, too.” The words escape before she can stop them, and she winces. “I’m sorry. That isn’t helping. I know this isn’t ideal, but I just wanted to say thank you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve says quietly.

“Ugh. Moving on before I cry again.” Darcy picks up her pace. “Come on, I need some cocoa. My nose is numb.”

There have already been a few spills, steaming chocolate streaking across the white snow. Steve reaches the snow mobile first and pours them both a cup, then they join the others around the tree. 

It’s another good one, probably about ten feet tall and sports full boughs. Clare takes the first swing, and then hands the axe off to Rachel.  Second to last Darcy takes her turn, and then watches Steve carefully temper his strength as he swings the axe. 

She really wishes she hadn’t said that earlier. In the face of the way things had ended, the things Steve had said about her unrealistic expectations, those hopes that she’d had for this trip seem so impossible and silly. 

Had she really thought he’d fit right in, and gallons of hot cocoa and warm pajamas would fill in the cracks that had formed in their relationship?  That she’d somehow revert to factory settings or something, and stop snowballing her every resentment every time they had a disagreement?

“Is everything okay?” 

“Mom.” Darcy blinks, coming back to herself. “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking.”

“It’s a hard Christmas. I’m glad you had someone to bring this year.” Her mom smiles and shakes her head. “Not just anyone, I could tell how happy Steve made you on the phone. We couldn’t wait to meet the man who had put the smile back in your voice.”

“Cheesy much?” Darcy asks, even as she cringes inside.

“And with this business with Nicholas, well I’m sure it’s awkward for Steve, but I think it’s good for us to have someone new around to keep us from focusing on what’s missing too much.” 

“I don’t know what to think about how Nadia is handling it,” Darcy lowers her voice. 

“Your sister has always been very strong. Also she set his golf bag on fire, I think that was very therapeutic.” 

Darcy chokes on her sip of cocoa and has to swallow several times to recover. 

“Nadia is handling this the best way she knows how, and she’s working very hard to make sure the kids have a good Christmas.” Her mom pats Darcy’s arm. “We’ll just be ready to help her whenever she needs it.”

“Are you okay?” Darcy asks, leaning closer.

“It’s very sad. Nick has been a part of our family for years. I thought he always would be. I worry about your sister, and I worry about the children. I have no doubt that Nadia can handle anything life throws at her, but I never wanted her to struggle this way.” 

A loud cheer goes up as the tree falls to the ground. Rachel lifts the axe in celebration, then does a muscle pose. 

“Look at Mattie.” 

Darcy scans the cluster her family makes around the downed tree, searching for her nephew’s bright red coat. He’s holding Steve’s hand, listening intently as Steve tells him something. 

Darcy closes her eyes as her heart lurches in her chest. She’d fallen hard and fast for him. No wonder her family had noticed. She’d gone into the relationship with her eyes open, determined to be cautious with her heart, but somehow Steve had snuck right in.

Within months, the parts of her brain that don’t listen to reason had been whispering things like what a good father he would make and imagining what forever might look like. By the time things had started to unravel, her heart was already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Following a personal time-honored tradition, Darcy joins the kids sledding instead of helping with lunch. They take turns carrying the smaller kids back up the hill and hauling the toboggans. 

After several trips up the hill, Darcy’s resolve loses steam and she decides that it’s fine to interact with Steve enough to let him pull her and whichever kids are with her up the hill in the toboggan. 

Besides, Christmas is in two days. They’re leaving on Monday. She can make it through three more days, and then she can go back to being the swamp beast locked in her apartment until Jane gets back on New Year’s Eve.

“Lazy,” Brady accuses, huffing and puffing as Steve pulls her past him. 

“Jealous,” Darcy tosses over her shoulder before snuggling her arms tighter around Aubrey. She had totally been indifferent to kids all the way up until her siblings had them. Her college friends’ kids? Lumpy mess makers. Her nieces and nephews? Only the most adorable, hilarious geniuses ever. 

“Katie!” Brady yells in what is seriously a trademarked Dad warning voice that still makes Darcy positively bubble over in shithead sibling delight. “Katherine! Past the tree! Katie, don’t you - Guys, heads up!” 

Steve stops, pulling the toboggan slightly to the side as Katie rockets past  on what is the designated path side of the hill.

“You’re giving your sled to your brother when you get back up here!” Brady yells after her.

“Young lady,” Darcy adds, shaking her fist. 

“It’s almost like I haven’t kicked your...tush in every snowball fight ever.” Brady threatens. Pathetically in light of the fact that Danny thinks ‘butt’ is the funniest word ever, and the word ‘butt’ is banned from their family possibly for the next few decades.

“That was pathetic, and also, please observe,” Darcy motions to Steve in a Vanna White gesture, “you think Steve would let you attack two innocents?”

“How are you at snowball fights, Steve?” Travis asks, stomping up the hill with Danny and Cole clinging to each hand. 

“Well, I can’t say I’ve won every snowball fight I’ve been in,” Steve says, and Darcy ducks her head to hide the smile that curls her lips at his tone, “but I haven’t lost one in the last seventy years.”

“Them sound like fightin’ words,” Travis says as they crest the hill. “Babe! Steve says he can kick your gluteus maximus in a snowball fight!”

“I want no part in this. I want tomato soup and grilled cheese,” Darcy declares loudly before someone tries to stick her on a team. 

“After lunch.” Rachel joins them, the tip of her nose bright red. “It’s on.”

“I want no part in that. I want to take a shower where there’s actually hot water and I get enough time to shave my legs.” Darcy says, because she’s had her fill of being in the snow and she really does want to take another shower.  Her morning shower had been cut short by a shortage of hot water.

“Don’t look at me. Travis had to exfoliate.” Rachel lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Where’s Kevin? He’s on my team.”

Travis shrugs. “The air up here dries my skin out. You can see in the older pictures of me here, my skin is all peeling and flaky. The last two years? Three step facial, gorgeous skin.”

“Honey. Baby. Petal. Focus. Where’s Kevin?” Rachel turns in a circle. “You guys, I think we’ve been given the slip. They’re eating without us.”


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy is bundled back in her pajamas and it feels really good. The kids are being tucked in, and  downstairs the liquor is flowing  . 

When she comes out of the bathroom carrying the day’s clothes wadded up under her arm, it’s to find Steve standing at the window in his pajamas. He looks sad.

A joke about how her Nana had figured out his size flits through her mind, but she can’t force it out. 

“What’s up?” That’s nicely half way between making a joke so they can head downstairs and getting personal. Besides, if she’d asked what was wrong, he just would have denied it. 

“Nothing. Ready?” He turns from the window and she sees that he has his phone in his hand.

“Checking in?” Darcy dumps her clothes into her open suitcase and then pulls the lid closed. 

“Sam had to go to the grocery store because he distracted his mom and she burnt the ginger snaps she makes every year. He sent a picture of the line.”

“That’s the good thing about being all the way out here. Even if we were tempted to run to the store, it’s too far.” Darcy stops at the bedroom door, not turning to look at him. “Is there anything we should do for you? Any traditions you’d like to observe? We’re all going to drink mulled cider tonight because it’s Travis’ thing. Did you do anything for Christmas Eve Eve?”

“We’d have to go to the store,” Steve says wryly. “Oranges. We’d have an orange from our stocking before bed. And then on Christmas Eve we’d each get a piece of chocolate.”

“Hey,” Nadia whispers, coming to a stop just outside their door. Her pajamas are white with Christmas trees and cardinals on them, and her hair is pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. “The kids are down.”

“That was fast.” 

“I think we can thank Steve for that. That snowball fight lasted all afternoon. They couldn’t keep their eyes open for their story.”  Nadia leads the way down the stairs. When the living room comes into view it’s filled with people and blankets. 

Christmas music is playing and hells yes, there’s a plate of cookies and candies. 

The others left the loveseat for Darcy and Steve. They’ve just gotten settled when Dad comes in with a carafe of cider. Soon they’re passing around steaming Santa mugs.

They play several rounds of Farkel, and have several rounds of drinks before The Best Christmas Song Ever comes on. And it starts a debate, as some tasteless poor souls can’t recognize greatness.

“What? You’re crazy. Of course you can dance to this.” Travis jumps to his feet and begins to shake his hips and shoulders.

“Go away.” Rachel shoos him with both hands.

“I’ll dance with you, Travis.” Darcy holds out her hand and lets him yank her to her feet. “Unlike some people I didn’t have a bit part in Anna Karenina that made me uppity about waltzing.”

“We’re all aware that’s not dancing,” Rachel observes drily, then gasps, turning to Steve. “You know how to actually dance! Darcy told me!”

Steve is far too much a gentleman to leave Rachel hanging with her hands reached out to him. Which is how Darcy and Travis end up dancing like crazy people to Mariah Carey’s  _ All I Want For Christmas  _ next to Rachel and Steve waltzing. While the rest of their family watched laughing and or recorded it on their phones. 

“Okay, okay,” Travis calls out through his laughter, as he spins with jazz hands, “Anyone can do that, can you two do this? Watch, we’ll do your boring dance.”

Darcy snaps into position when Travis offers his hands for a waltz. They manage a half respectable sweep around the room. 

Rachel is teaching Steve the snorkel dance when Darcy and Travis mix up their steps and Darcy almost ends up on her ass, clutched in Travis’ arms as he shakes with laughter. 

“Take her back before we break each other.” Travis twirls Darcy towards Steve, who catches her smoothly. 

Darcy leans her head against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. Her cheeks are warm and she’s out of breath, and his arms feel good. 

“Well, I think it’s time for the old folks to head to bed.” Nana slowly stands from her chair, holding onto the edge of the side table for a second until she’s steady.

“Yes. We’ll take care of the kids, you guys have fun.” Mom picks up the baby monitor from the mantel. She also picks up the piles of shiny candy wrappers as she makes her way around the game table.

Darcy stands frozen, in this position that is so familiar her heart aches. Back in the early days of their relationship, when she’d been turned nearly electric with hope and possibilities, she’d practically thrown herself in his arms one night. She’s still not sure if it was stupid or not, but he’d expressed regret about not dancing with Peggy when he’d had the chance. Glibly, because back then she hadn’t realized what a minefield Peggy was, she’d decided they’d dance right then and there. So he’d never have to regret it, she’d said. 

And dancing had become a thing. Not fancy dancing, although there had been a few events, but swaying in their socks in the kitchen, in the elevator when Tony’s playlist of the hour was good, in the shower when they bumped into each other when she reached for her razor and he reached for the soap.

Her face tucked against him, his arms around her, just the two of them swaying.

Steve smoothly moves into it now, and she lets him spin her out and then back into his arms. 

The dance  breaks Darcy’s resolve to keep her distance from Steve, and just for tonight, she decides to stop fighting her feelings so much. 

Darcy ends up tucked up against Steve’s side with a stomach aching from laughter and fingers sticky from melting chocolate candies. 

She’s switched to egg nog, along with most of her siblings, but Steve stuck with the cider. She hopes he feels even halfway as good as she does. Even if he won’t talk about it, she knows he must miss all the things that made Christmas  _ Christmas  _ when he was growing up. All the little things that come together, for Darcy it’s ornaments on the tree that she’s seen since she was a kid, it’s her nana’s cookies, it’s Brady getting nagged for drinking the orange juice straight from the bottle. 

For Steve a lot of those things have been lost. Traditional recipes, family heirlooms, loved ones. 

Darcy snuggles in closer, and his arm tightens around her shoulders. She doesn’t know if he’s acting or if like her he’s falling prey to hazy holiday magic that seems to be insulating them from the real world.

When they finally file up the stairs for bed, in the wee hours of the morning, Darcy makes a side trip to the kitchen to pilfer a few clementines from the box in the pantry. 

She tries to ignore the wobble in heart at the look he gives when she holds them out to him. They eat them in silence and then wash their fingers clean in the bathroom. Darcy shakes her head when he opens his mouth, not wanting him to ruin it.

And then like an idiot that didn’t already know her heart was broken, she takes his hand and leads him to bed.


	8. Chapter 8

“Darcy! Did you seriously throw food away in the bathroom trash? That’s disgusting!”

Darcy lurches upright at Rachel’s bellowing through the bathroom door. She can then hear Travis shushing Rachel and yanks the blankets up to cover her bare chest.

The night before comes rushing back as Steve’s arm curls around her, his palm sliding down her ribs to cup to her hip.

Her heart fails her before her arms do, and she drops back next to Steve, curling against him. She feels him hesitate, but then he turns on his side, so he’s curved into her.

“Steve,” Darcy whispers, because everything feels very tentative and easily broken. She trails her fingers down his arm, tracing the curve of his bicep before flattening her hand against his skin. “I know what I want for Christmas.”

He leans back so he can look her in the eye. His eyes look especially blue in this light. She thinks he has an idea of where this is going but she can’t be sure. He doesn’t stop her though, and that’s enough to give her courage.

“No one else knows we ended things back home,” she whispers, her heart thudding hard in her chest. She pushes lightly against him so he rolls backwards and she straddles him. “I want this weekend. I want to forget what happened in New York, I want to forget the real world, science, security threats, and the greater good. Just for the weekend, I want to pretend the good parts were enough.”

She wants to say please. She’s tempted to lean down and kiss him. But she won’t beg. And she won’t feel guilty later about blurring the lines for him, because one thing they’ve never had a problem with is sexual chemistry.

His eyes close and that worry line appears between his brows. His golden lashes always look extra long when his eyes are closed.

Unable to resist one more bit of softness when she’d hardened her heart to him these past few days, she bends and first kisses one and then the other eyelid.

A breath shudders out of him, and she plants a hand on his chest like she can steady it for him. She’d been so willing to help him, if he could have just let her. Then she’d been so defensive. Maybe their timing had just been off.

Maybe they can figure it out, just for the weekend.

“Steve?”

Say yes. Gods, she wants him to say yes. To give them just a few more days of what could have been. Surely it couldn’t hurt anymore than it already had.

His eyes open and she feels it to her bones. Darcy had had little tastes of this. In college, a fling with Alex in her biology, whose kisses had raised goosebumps on her skin, with whom she’d been insatiable for a flash flare last one semester. With Ian, when conversations late at night had either been ridiculously silly or mind alteringly deep, but  he’d always exactly on the same page as Darcy - like he really _got_ her.

And then Steve. Insatiable, silly, deep. Entire conversations shared across a room in a glance, butterflies erupting in her stomach at the mere sight of him. Suddenly she’d had everything, juggling it in uncertain hands, surety of just how rare and important it was making her jittery and clingy.

Steve surges up, his lips capturing hers. Soft. His hands come up to cup her cheeks, cradling her face like she’s precious and loved.

“Darcy? Are you guys having morning sex?” Rachel demands through the door, then bangs on it.

Darcy smiles when she hears her sister squawking for Travis to put her down, and then she presses her lips against his again, needing all of him that she could get. Two more days.

They get two more days.

Darcy is relishing feeling _this_ again, the scrape of his morning scruff against her skin, his all-encompassing warmth, and the thrill that comes with hands brushing ever closer to her breasts.

She’s certain that this time, he’s finally going to put his hands exactly where she wants them when he freezes over her.

She’s so turned on she can help but squirm with it, rocking her hips against him. “Steve?”

“Shh.” He turns his head, listening carefully.

That’s when Darcy hears a very quiet tapping coming from her bedroom door.

“What?” Darcy moans, rolling off of him. She bypasses her pants crumpled on the floor and grabs his pajama top. With four buttons haphazardly done up, she opens the door a crack.

Danny looks up at her, his dark curls tousled. “Hi, Aunt Darcy.”

“Hey, Danny.” Darcy quickly double checks that everything is covered, and looks over her shoulder to make Steve is good, and then opens the door a bit further. “What’s up?”

“Steve said we could go sledding some more today.” Danny glances nervously down the hall. Darcy peeks her head out to see Katie, Mattie, and Cole waiting. “Aunt Rachel said that Steve was waiting in your room for us to wake up, but we’re already awake.”

“So you are,” Darcy observes drily. “I thought we were going to the parade today.”

“That’s after _lunch_ , Aunt Darcy,” Danny says in way that makes it clear that lunch and the parade are an eternity away.

“Hey pal.” Steve appears at Darcy’s side in his pajama bottoms and a sweater. “Why don’t you give your Aunt Darcy and me a chance to get ready and grab some breakfast.”

“Five minutes?”

“Twenty minutes,” Steve corrects, and Danny holds out his hand. Darcy watches as Steve bends and turns so Danny can see his watch, and wonders when this developed. “On the six, okay?”

“On the six you guys!” Danny runs away, yelling. “We’re going sledding on the six!”

Darcy shuts the door and turns to face Steve. He’s looking at her with an expression she can’t interpret.

“You’re coming out sledding with us,” he says.

“No.”

“Yes.” He ducks his head and kisses her, pulling back again before she can really sink into it. “Because we have today and tomorrow and no team and no missions and no Jane calling from the lab.”

“That’s a really convincing argument,” Darcy responds as she realizes he’s not going to take it back. That they’re actually going to do this. Her trepidation disappears, leaving her only with happiness.

They deserve it. They’d waded through all the shit that came with a relationship between the two of them, the late night calls from medical floor when Steve was hurt, the long separations, the arguments and compromises about safety, all of it. They couldn’t figure out how to find the balance, so the good parts outweighed the shit, but just for a few more days, they deserve the best of it.

“I’ll pull you up the hill every time,” Steve promises.

“Deal, if only because it will give my brothers a complex.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You seem happy.” Nadia wipes at Aubrey’s face, trying to keep the flow of drool from reaching Darcy’s coat. Darcy doesn’t care about drool at all, the baby stage goes so fast when she only sees them every few months. 

Aubrey is standing on wobbly legs now, at almost a year old. The next time Darcy sees her, she’ll be walking. There’s a fifty-fifty chance she won’t want to be held anymore, which means Darcy is soaking it up now.

But Nadia’s words suffuse Darcy with guilt. She’d tried to be aware of Nadia and not let the giddiness that filled her, or the magnetic draw to Steve that had taken her over, overflow too much where Nadia had to witness it.

“Stop.” Nadia tucks the burping towel back into the diaper bag that also serves as her purse. They’re in line at the Starbucks, with a coffee order as long as Darcy’s arm saved on her phone. “You don’t think I’m happy for you?”

“Of course you’re happy for me,” Darcy says, and she tells herself that Nadia  _ would  _ be happy for her even if she knew the truth. Siblings are the shit, they have all of the comforting properties of parents and best friends, but also know the real truth. Nadia had helped Darcy rinse her underwear out when she pooped her pants at Fun Mountain after eating questionable hot dogs on opening day, aka when the line for the bathroom had been far, far too long for food poisoning. 

Nadia knows about Darcy’s young, misguided crush on Lance Bass. There had been posters with Sharpie hearts drawn on them. There had been a decoupage scrapbook. Nadia knows all the real shit, and she loves Darcy anyway.

There’s something really comforting about that. 

So yeah, Nadia would understand the complicated and probably ill-advised game Darcy and Steve are playing right now, if Darcy was willing to explain it. Darcy isn’t. 

“Of course I’m happy for you,” Nadia repeats. “Besides, believe it or not, having everyone not touch each other and act like they’re at the funeral of my marriage wouldn’t actually make me feel better. If I wanted to attend that event, I would have stayed home. What I want is to get back at Rachel for giving Cole coffee this morning.”

“Rachel was a true villain today. You don’t even know.”

Nadia turns with narrowed eyes. “Cole thought coffee tasted yucky, he told me, but Aunt Rachel said to just add sugar. Do you know how many spoonfuls of sugar it takes to make coffee ‘yummy’?”

“This explains some things.” Darcy says, thinking of the little monster that had made the two hour drive to town damn near unbearable. Cole had imitated the sound a lion makes enough times that Darcy had finally sunk low in her seat and plugged her ears with her fingers. 

Rachel had ridden in the other car, so she didn’t even have to suffer the consequences. 

“Eight. Eight spoonfuls of sugar.” Nadia looks forward again as the line inches closer to the register. 

“You know, Nadia, I’m gonna have some time off coming. If you’d like some company, another set of hands for a bit while you get things settled.”

One side of Nadia’s lips curve in a half smile. “That’s four for four. Of course Rachel’s offer was more revenge oriented.”

“Brady probably offered babysitting whenever you need it,” Darcy guessed, since Brady and Clare lived in Burlington with Nadia. “And Kevin probably offered to just move in as a full-time manny, bouncer, chef and therapist for as long as you needed.”

“Yep.” Nadia smiles. “I made out pretty good in the sibling department, it turns out.”

“Yeah, it was a little touch and go in the late nineties, but we pulled through.” Darcy bobs her head away from Aubrey’s hand, deciding to give in and take out her earrings. Shifting the baby from one arm to the other, she pulls off her earrings and drops them into her coat pocket. They move forward again, finally second in line in the madness that is main street during the parade. “I’m serious though. How are you doing? Do you need help? I’m game for whatever, I’ll babysit, I’ll come and help Kevin keep everything going, I’ll meet you and Rachel at midnight with lighter fluid.”

“Thanks. I might give you a call.” Nadia wraps an arm around Darcy’s waist and squeezes.

When it’s their turn, Darcy puts her phone down on the counter, asking the barista if it would be easier for Darcy to read it aloud, or to just hand over the list. And then Darcy tips really well, because the poor girl had given a really good go at hiding her reaction to the long order.

Darcy and Nadia switch duties. Nadia is better at carrying babies, and Darcy is better at carrying over-large coffee orders. She stacks the drink carriers one on top of the other, and then they’re back out on the crowded sidewalks.

Darcy is aware that there are SHIELD agents spread throughout the crowd. It is laughably easy for anyone that can use a computer to connect Darcy to her family. There would probably be SHIELD agents around even if Darcy wasn’t here. She doesn’t know how that might change when it comes out that she and Steve are calling it quits.

She doesn’t try to look for them, sticking to her new program of enjoying the shit out of this holiday break. So she braces her chin on the lid of one of the cups to help steady her load and walks past people in antler and elf hats and enjoys the over-the-top window displays. 

The parade has been held here for over fifty years, and the shops on this street know how to make the most of it. Lights are strung from every light pole and zig zag over the street, windows are filled with fake snow, gingerbread men, and train sets. 

They hurry across the street, and Steve is waiting to take two of the trays and help them up the embankment. He wears the moose hat Darcy’s father had leant him, and his coat collar is popped up.

So far, it seems like no one had recognized him. Darcy sits between his legs and steals from Travis’ bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. For his part, Steve wraps an arm around her middle, holding her to him firmly. Steve presses kisses to the side of her head and cheek, and she doesn’t mind his cold nose. 

They watch the marching band, and then the tractor brigade, all driven by Santas, and then two bedecked snow plows pass. Firefighters shake their booties to  _ Rocking’ Around the Christmas Tree _ , a time honored parade tradition. 

The kids dart forward to grab candy and deliver their bounty back to the blanket. 

The parade ends as it always does, with a giant sled containing Santa. 

Driving back is much quieter. By the time they escape the parade traffic it’s dark and the kids have mostly fallen asleep. Katie is watching  _ Elf  _ on the flip down tv. Darcy and Steve are in the back seat again and Darcy feels like a teenager, snuggled against him, scrunched low for privacy. 

All sad break ups should be like this. Not the mad ones, like Nadia and Nick’s. But the ones like hers and Steve’s, where it almost worked, and it’s not really anyone’s fault. She gets to kiss his knuckles and run her fingers through his hair. She gets to say goodbye to the way it feels to be tucked under his arm, to his bony hips that sometimes jab her, and to his smell. 

She wonders if he can feel the softness she’s trying to shower him with. He pushes people away, she knows better than almost anyone. Who knows how long it will be before he has someone who will rub the muscles in his neck, who will breathe kisses onto his skin? 


	10. Chapter 10

Steve had helped carry in sleeping children, so Darcy is helping heat up leftovers in the kitchen for a late-night meal. 

Nana moves quickly and efficiently, despite her knuckles being swollen and bent due to arthritis. Darcy stands next to her at the stove, keeping watch over the egg noodles and the chicken soup Nana was throwing together with whatever she could find in the fridge. 

“I’ve been needing to talk to you,” Nana says, and all of the easy feelings flee.

“Okay,” Darcy says cautiously.

“You know about my fall in August.” Nana sets to chopping a peeled carrot. “And the other one in October.”

“But the doctor said nothing was wrong,” Darcy says, because she’d been so scared when her dad had listed the tests that were being run.

“Nothing except old age.” Nana smiles, scraping the carrots into the soup pot with the knife. “It’s become pretty clear that my house is too big for an eighty-eight year old woman.”

“No. You love your house.” Darcy frowns. Nana had always said she’d die in that house. It was the house she’d raised her children in, it was the house that Darcy had spent weekends at growing up. That house, and good memories, was half the reason Brady and Nadia had moved to Burlington in the first place. 

“I certainly do. That’s why I’m letting Nadia and the children move into it for now. When I die, you all will have to decide how to handle it.” Nana pats Darcy’s hands, her rings flashing. “Do you remember Gertrude?” 

“Of course.” Darcy nods. Her nana and Gertrude had modeled what real friendship should be for Darcy. They’d written letters and burned up phone lines for seven decades, despite Gertrude’s continual moves with her military husband. They take vacations to far away places together and Nana brings enamel pins back for Darcy.

“She has a lovely apartment in Florida, but she says it gets too hot in the summer. And we just thought it would be a lovely idea for me to get an apartment here for us in the summers, and for us to spend the winters in Florida. Women like us have no business living alone anyway, we need someone else to get into trouble with.” Nana smiles conspiratorially. “Don’t tell your mother, but I have every intention of becoming ‘Florida grandma’.”

“You’re really okay with this?” Darcy asks, trying to cram down her own reaction. 

“Darling, I’m totally okay with this,” Nana says, cupping Darcy’s cheek with her hand. “Whenever you can, you should make life an adventure, and this will certainly be one. Gertrude has already signed us up for a monthly Lagoon Cruise, and I’m joining her erotic book club. They publish a book once a month.”

Steve steps into the kitchen and almost immediately narrows his eyes at her. 

“Steven, come stir this for me. Darcy burns it,” Nana calls, moving away.

“I was seven!” Darcy blurts, because that’s her line. 

Steve hesitates just a second when he reaches her, because their agreement had been about kisses and holding hands and goodbye sex, not about truths and frank emotions. But then he sets both his hands on her hips.

“Okay?”

Darcy drops her head forward onto his chest, and he steps closer, wrapping his arms around her. Steve had always been happy to step up, to take on her weight if she needed a few minutes. 

She’d miss the steadfast support he offered, never wavering. He’d always made it clear that when it came to the outside world, he was in her corner, no questions asked. He just hadn’t been ready to allow her to do the same.

“Everything is fine,” Darcy tells him, running her hands down his back. “Things are changing and it’s scary, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be bad.”

Nadia is an amazing woman with a strong support network. Nick was a fucking moron for screwing up the life they’d built, and an asshole for hurting Darcy’s sister. Nadia can do so much better than having a moron and an asshole for a husband. Hopefully Nick manages to be a decent human being about the divorce, because previous to his utter failure in the husband department, he’d been a pretty awesome father.

Nana just might have the time of her life down in Florida, and that was amazing. Darcy wouldn’t want anything less for her. It was inspiring that Nana managed to take something like the difficult knowledge that she might not be able to live alone anymore, and that her home was too much for her, and turn it into a brand new adventure. 

Darcy comes from good stock. She’s always known it, and this is just another reminder. Her decision to enjoy this last weekend with Steve solidifies. Yes, it’s going to hurt to lose that chance she’d thought she’d had at something good, at forever. But she’s strong and she’s got her family and her friends. 

If Nadia can stay strong through losing her husband and the life they’d built, and Nana could embark on a new chapter of her life choosing adventure and grace, then Darcy could survive a break-up with Steve, and she could admire the good parts while she did. 

They eat at the dining room table, fighting over their favorite foods and talking loud enough to be heard over each other. Nadia hogged Dad’s mac and cheese, and Brady ate four rolls before Darcy even got one. 

Darcy ends up with a mountain of mashed potatoes and gravy, mostly thanks to Steve’s quick reflexes. She’s pleased, because mashed potatoes are one of her comfort foods. It’s not the first time, by a long shot, that she’s made an entire meal out of what some might technically call a ‘side’. 

“So Clare, any idea why your spawn keeps giving me drawings of me drowning?” Rachel asks towards the end of the meal. She’s stretched back in her chair, with her hands holding her stomach. 

Brady snorts.

“She’s drawing your wedding.” Clare explains. “She saw one on TV where the couple were both scuba divers and got married under the water. After I convinced her that I was sure Brady and I were already married, she moved on to you and Travis.”

Rachel scrunches up her face. “Marry Travis? Gross.”

Travis turns towards her, his face also scrunched up. “Ew.” 

Rachel presses her hand against his face, then drags her fingers through his hair as he stands. She nudges her plate towards him, but he ignores it on his way out. He does take Nana’s empty plate. 

“Besides, scuba diving is too much work. If I ever do make an honest man out of buttface, I’ll mail you guys a postcard from Vegas.” Rachel grabs her plate and hops to her feet. “Who wants pie? I want pie.”

Travis comes back in as Rachel yells from the kitchen about the cheesecake that Darcy had totally helped her dad finish off after lunch, hiding in the cabinet under the stairs when they were supposedly looking for Mom’s snow boots.

“You guys’ll get twenty-four hours notice. That’s the best I can promise,” Travis says as he retakes his seat. 

“There are daily flights to Vegas from Burlington, if you connect through St. Louis,” Mom says. She pauses with a bite of green bean casserole halfway to her mouth. “What? I know my daughter. I’ve had a dress ready for the past six months.”

“What dress?” Rachel demands, stalking back into the room with her hands on her hips. “Never mind, which of you asshole heathens ate the cheesecake  _ and  _ the cherry pie?”

Darcy leans back as Rachel zeroes in on Brady. Cherry is Steve’s favorite.  “Did you eat the pie, Rogers?”

“Your mom helped me,” Steve mutters back, voice low. “It was while we were looking for her boots. She hid them in the kitchen with the cleaning supplies to provide a distraction. Don’t think I don’t know what happened to the cheesecake, Lewis.”

Darcy hides a smile as Steve curls his arm around the back of her chair and tugs it closer to him. 


	11. Chapter 11

They’d ended the evening watching old Christmas movies with the fam. Darcy hadn’t been able to resist teasing Steve under the blankets. Nothing too brazen, with her mom snoring lightly only a few feet away.

Just trailing her fingertips over whatever exposed skin she could find. His hands and wrists, his forearm. His stomach, when she managed to push his sweater out of the way. Such simple touches, but desire made it so she was only paying half attention to the movie and instead was listening to Steve’s breathing, hearing it catch when she dipped her finger just under the top of his pants and dragged it across this lower abs. 

When the credits roll, Darcy stands up immediately, ready to fake some yawning if she has to. 

“Go away. I’m watching another movie so Travis’ drool spot darkens and I can take a picture for Twitter.” Rachel says, not looking up as she navigates the TV menu. 

Kevin reaches out and takes the popcorn bowl from Steve, then quietly sneaks towards the kitchen.

Around them, everyone else is asleep. 

Darcy doesn’t need to be told twice. She grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him towards the stairs. His arm wraps around her on the steps, pulling her back against his front. It’s dark except for the Rudolph nightlight in the hall.

Darcy pushes her door open and pulls him inside before pushing him back. He lets her, his back hitting the door. Made brave by the knowledge that this might be one of her last chances to touch him, to be with him, she presses her palms against his front, sliding her hands up over his chest. Her fingers curve over his shoulders and then she cups his neck. 

His skin is smooth and warm, and he watches her with dark eyes. Her hands reach his jaw and she steps closer, holding his head the way she wants as she goes up on tiptoe to reach his lips. 

Given how she felt downstairs, given the state of her underwear right now, and the things she’d been imagining during a wholesome family Christmas movie, Darcy had expected hard and fast. She’d been looking forward to it. 

Somehow they’d gone slow and intense. So intense. 

With a groan, Steve pushes forward. 

“Uh-uh,” Darcy manages, prying her mouth from his, “I have plans.”

“These plans involve the bed, right?” Steve rasps.

“Yes.” The word is barely out of her mouth and he’s lifting her. Gods, she’ll miss that. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it’s so hot when he lifts her like she weighs nothing. Her poor, poor future lovers will never be able to compare.

His arm braced behind her back, he crawls onto the bed. As he begins to lower her, she pushes at his shoulder. “I’m not done.”

He raises a brow, but willingly flips over onto his back. Straddling him, Darcy runs her hands up his chest again. His sweater is in the way, and she wants skin contact. Shoving her hands under the bottom edge of his sweater she splays her fingers over his stomach. 

“Why didn’t you take off your shirt? That was bad planning.” 

He sits up, one arm keeping her in his lap, and yanks his sweater off with the other. She has to help him because the collar gets stuck under his chin. Then she pulls her own shirt over her head. His fingers find the clasp of her bra, and then his hands are on her breasts.

Steve is a boob man. She used to tease him by wearing low cut shirts and making sure to give him a view as she went on with whatever she was doing. It was playing with fire, because he could only take so much and sooner or later Darcy would find herself being carried into the nearest closet, back room, or other semi-private location.

He lays back again, but his hands stay on her chest. Squeezing, his thumb swirling around nipples, his fingers flicking over them. 

Darcy tucks her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, where they’d teased him several times during the movie. “You know I love you in jeans with no shirt.” 

She drags her eyes from the fine hairs that trail down his stomach to look him in the eye, her heart flipping over as she hears her own words.

He’s on her bed, in her bedroom, in the house she grew up in. His blonde hair is tousled, and has been all day thanks to his winter hat going on and off. He’d carried a post sugar crash Cole around for an hour after the parade. 

“You know I love you, right?” Darcy whispers, because it’s important that he knows. Yeah, she’s pissed as hell at him, yeah she’s gonna resent him for a long time, but she’s never going to stop loving him even if someday it gets to the point that it’s only as a friend. She can’t imagine that, because loving him had come so naturally. 

All of her good intentions about taking it slow and being cautious with her heart had been for nothing, because she’d just slipped right into loving him like that’s the way it was supposed to be. Everything had fit. His hugs were the best, kissing him was like a drug, they talked for hours, his laugh never failed to make her feel happy. 

Steve sits up again, this time capturing her lips in deep kiss that doesn’t stop or let up until the rest of their clothes are stripped off and he’s inside her. 

It makes Darcy think of all the things she’s going to miss about him in bed. His intensity, and his dedication to making sure she’s enjoying herself as much if not more than he is. His hands, and how he knows how to use them, lavishing her with touches not just at the fun places, but cupping the back of her neck, running his fingers over her curves, be they at her hip or the backs of her legs or even over her shoulders. 

When she’s coming down from it, skin extra sensitive, he throws one arm around her and pulls her close. That’s just another favorite in a long line that belong to Steve. The soft, lazy, and possibly subconsciously way he touches her constantly. 

When she’s together enough to turn to look him in eye, she can easily read his torn expression. He looks worried and guilty.

“Please don’t feel that way.” Darcy whispers, running her hand through his hair. “I don’t see why we don’t deserve a little happiness. It’s Christmas Eve. Besides, I got you a surprise.”

She can actually see him decide to go along with her, and his eyes clear. “A surprise?”

“Mmm.” Darcy scratches across his cowlick, then down the side of his head before withdrawing her hand. His head tilts, chasing her fingers. His love of having his head scratched is one of those things she finds inexplicably adorable about him. “Check under the bed. Your side.” 

Darcy watches his muscles move and stretch as he twists and leans over the side of the bed.

“The stocking?” His voice is muffled.

“Yes. Touch nothing else under there. You might get sucked into the vortex that is the detritus of my adolescence.” Darcy pinches the back of his calf with her toes. “Seriously. I’m pretty sure there is more than one demon Furby down there.”

“Furby?” Steve sits up with the stocking in his hands. 

“Creepy fur covered talking, blinking toy that was the Turbo-Man of the late nineties.” Darcy sits up, then realizes she should really go clean up. “Pause. Bathroom break. Then stocking.” 

They clean up in the bathroom, then dash back to bed. Even with the fireplaces going in the rest of the house, her bedroom still gets chilly with the door closed. Darcy huddles under the covers and pulls her pajamas from underneath her pillow. Steve does the same, and she feels mild satisfaction that she’d converted him.

He smiles when he pulls the chocolates from the stocking. 

“I bought them during the parade. Obviously I have no idea which chocolates are most like the ones you had, so I had to buy lots of different kinds.” Darcy takes the stocking from him, leaving him with pile of shiny wrapped treats in his lap. She checks to make sure he got all of them. “And I had a plan. I figured we could watch Christmas Vacation finally, so you’ll get Tony’s and Clint’s references.”

“Do you have a TV in here?” Steve looks around the room again.

“No, but I brought my tablet. It sounded kind of nice, watching something in here with you, with Christmas Eve chocolates.” She just barely manages to catch herself, literally biting her tongue to stop from saying it could be a new tradition.

They get settled in bed, the pillows leaned up against the headboard so they can sit up and the blankets arranged over them. Unable to to give up any opportunity to touch him, Darcy drapes her legs in his lap.

Far from objecting, he helps arrange them so he can have the tablet braced against his knees so they can both see the screen. 

They cuddle and eat chocolates, and Steve laughs quietly several times during the movie. Darcy tangles her fingers with his and refuses to let go, so they unwrap the chocolates through clumsy cooperation and feed them to each other.

Towards the end of the movie they can hear Rachel and Travis in the bathroom, a low murmur of voices and the tap running. There are also feet on the stairs, and the floorboards creaking as people pass in the hallway.

Steve leans his cheek against the top of her head, pressing a quick kiss and then staying there and Darcy snuggles even closer, savoring the feeling of being completely at home.


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy blinks as Steve catches a plastic rocket inches from her eye.

“Katie!” Clare sets down her coffee with a snap. “That’s it, all blow guns in the bowl until after breakfast.”

Darcy takes another sip of her coffee, leaning against Steve as Mom and Brady judge Rachel for giving the kids those kinds of toys in their stockings. In the Lewis household stockings are always opened as soon as you wake up. Then breakfast is made and eaten, and then presents are opened.

That means the hyped up younger set have to wait over an  _ hour  _ to finally tear into their gifts. 

“Those rockets look pretty familiar,” Steve murmurs in Darcy’s ear.

“Rachel is an agent for chaos and she rarely gets caught. I don’t feel guilty at all,” Darcy whispers back, and then has to hide a laugh as Brady pulls Cole’s supposedly lost blow gun out of the boy’s pants.

Almost as soon as all the blow guns were collected Brady catches Rachel reaching for the bowl. With a long suffering sigh he grabs the bowl and sets it on top of the cabinet, effectively out of reach for ninety-five percent of the household.

“Don’t let her manipulate you, Travis,” Brady says. “You know you’re the first person she’ll shoot.” 

Steve holds up his hands when Brady turns to him. “My loyalty is to Darcy, and she needs at least two more cups of coffee before planning any hostile takeovers.”

Darcy toasts with her mug then sinks back into her customary morning slump. The kitchen is quiet again because the kids have spilled back out into the living room. Another pot of coffee is brewing, and the air is scented with the gingerbread french toast Clare is making.

It smells delicious, and Darcy knows that Clare will totally pretend not to see her dad stealing a piece, and that her dad can’t resist Darcy’s puppy eyes. Which means she’s getting a sample. And since she’s got Steve, none of her siblings can swoop in and steal it from her while she’s in her weakened morning state.

The music stops with a pop. On Christmas morning, they always play Nana’s Christmas music. It’s a pair of cassette tapes released by CBS in the 70s, and have some of Nana’s favorite songs on them. Growing up listening to them every Christmas, they couldn’t help but become some of Darcy’s favorites too.

Debbie Reynolds’  _ Silent Night _ , Patti Page’s  _ Jingle Bells _ , and Doris Day’s  _ Toyland _ . They are all familiar to her, every note and jingling bell. They’re all beautiful to her, because they bring in warm feelings of nostalgia and home and echoes of her childhood anticipation. Darcy had actually hoarded a few more copies of each set in case they stopped working, having hunted them down on Ebay. She knows for a fact at least two of her siblings and her dad have done the same.

Travis flips the tape over to side B and presses play on the kitchen radio that hasn’t been replaced solely because its cassette player is needed once a year. 

Kevin brings the freshly brewed coffee around, topping everyone off. Darcy quickly sucks down the last of her cup, so she can get a maximum refill. Kevin doesn’t call her on it, they share their near-obsessive coffee love/addiction. The rest of the family is all one cup at home, one cup for the road gladiators. 

They eat the best french toast Darcy has ever eaten, seriously all other french toast aspires to be this french toast, with it’s crispy edges but soft inside, it’s warm gingerbread taste, it’s syrup icing fusion. It makes her resolve to visit Burlington again and eat at Clare’s restaurant. And beg Brady to air mail her treats more often.

People deemed responsible enough by Clare switch off stove duty so she’s not left slaving over it producing enough food for the house. After a short instructional period, Steve is found to be a trustworthy stand in. Darcy isn’t trusted in the kitchen, thanks to Nana’s big mouth.

Not that her family would know, but Darcy is magic with casseroles. Anytime she makes a casserole, she’s got people showing up at her door. FRIDAY is a snitch. Clint, Thor, Jane, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Tony, and even Pepper had all shown up at one time or another.

Some people may turn up their noses at cornflake toppings, but Darcy hasn’t had any complaints.

When it comes time to move into the living room the kids run ahead, their delight sounding more like war cries. 

There aren’t enough seats and Darcy ends up in Steve’s lap. She braces her back against the armrest and folds her legs to the side. 

Mom is in charge of handing out the gifts. It used to be Dad, but he sucked at reading handwriting and the sacred duty had been passed off to Mom when Darcy was in middle school. Whichever kids aren’t engrossed in unwrapping their own gifts are recruited as couriers. Darcy gets a box of cookie mixes from Clare, as she always does. Darcy is incredibly grateful, as she always is.

She also gets the fuzziest socks, three new Nintendo games, a photo album consisting only of pictures of her with her mother, a lump of coal, a set of handmade magnets with a lot of extra hot glue, a new pair of converse, and a tub of caramel popcorn.

Then she gets to Steve’s gift. She doesn’t miss that certain members of her family are paying extra attention. She’s curious too - Steve had been so busy with this mission and that one that he’d barely had any time at home for the past month.

She doesn’t want to think about that - her complaints about his blowing her off on several occasions so that she’d bought all the presents for her family alone, and also wrapped them alone had started off their big fight.

He’d chosen a strange wrapping paper. It had dogs all over it. 

“Oh my sweet, sweet Cindy Lou Who,” Darcy says as she rips the wrapping paper and box becomes visible. “Are you serious right now? This is  _ awesome _ .”

“Really?” Steve asks uncertainly.

As if. 

Darcy rips the rest of the paper away and stares in awe. “Behold. A Death Star popcorn popper.” 

“Are you serious?” Kevin demands from across the room, on the brown couch. He’s wrapped in the extra long Dr. Who scarf Darcy had picked out for him. 

Darcy holds it over her head for all to admire. Steve didn’t even know. Fresh popped popcorn had been a  _ thing  _ in the Lewis household. 

Her family is appropriately impressed. 

Darcy is really glad she didn’t indulge her bitchier self and leave his present at home. She’d totally planned out just telling her family it was a private present,  _ wink wink _ , and then giving him nothing.

He smiled when he opened the leather bound journal-style sketch book, with little cards shoved between the pages. Darcy had removed over half of them, because they’d been promises for things like meeting him anywhere in the world for a week, or one weekend with no clothes. But there are still a lot of gift downloads to travel apps and games she knows he’ll like for his phone.

She can see the whole gift for what it was. Her last ditch attempt to fix what was wrong, to compromise and meet him at the closest to halfway that you could get when your relationship had to accommodate world saving, breaking physics, day trips across the universe, and super villains. 

They’d lost their spark. The more serious and displeased Steve got, the sillier and more spontaneous she’d become. Her lack of groundedness had grated for him, he hadn’t been able to come home from whatever tragedy they’d tried mitigate and switch right into fun and games. 

She maintains that he needs to let go sometimes, that he has to live a life outside of the captain. But she can also see that maybe she’s not the right person to help him do that. Sam had said that relationships with civilians were fraught with challenges. The research Darcy had done had shown a high divorce rate among operative-civilian relationships. That rate only increased when she switched to SHIELD data and kept upping the clearance levels of the operatives involved. 

Clint and Laura beat the odds. As hopeful as Darcy had been that she and Steve would too, the fight that led to their break-up wasn’t an oddity. In fact, for the past few months fighting and sniping and resentments that swelled and were acknowledged with quick looks were more the norm. This weekend had been a throwback to the early days.

“Thank you, Darcy.” Steve’s lips brush her ear. She burrows into him further, forcing a smile as the morning continues around her.

Steve rests his chin on her shoulder, but she’s been yanked out of their little game. Reminded that she has to let him go. This bubble that they’re in, living in only the good parts of their relationship, is suddenly tarnished by reality.

She’s forced to remember that she’s not selfless, nothing close to it. That she can’t handle dating a superhero, even if it means she’s giving up best man she’s ever known. 

“Where did you go?” Steve whispers as Rachel helps tie a bedazzled blue cape around Katie’s neck while Danny looks on in awe. 

Darcy shakes her head, kicking herself. “Nowhere. I’m here.”

How could she miss any of this? The cape came with gauntlet cuffs and a be-winged helmet. 

The living room becomes chaos when the kids realize Rachel and Travis got them all super hero sets. 

“We should find out where they got those. Lila and Cassie would love them.” Steve catches the green sparkly gift Travis tosses him now that Mom’s elves have abandoned their delivery duties.

“Rachel and Travis made those. They always make the kids’ gifts.” 

“Because they’re costume designers.” Steve taps his temple. “I remembered.”

“Adorable stage nerds.” Darcy sighs. “But Rachel will seriously punch you if you call them that.”

“How long have they been together again?” Steve asks.

“Seven years.” Darcy curls her fingers into his when he takes her hand. “They met through work and eventually made their own company. Lewis Kowalski Designs. And I think they’re winning this year, no one can compete with that.”

“I don’t know. The guns were a pretty big hit this morning.”

“Can it, Steven.” Darcy elbows him as Nana looks over at them. Darcy is mostly convinced that her Nana uses her hearing aids to have super-hearing. 


	13. Chapter 13

“What do you mean I can’t keep it?” Darcy wraps her arms around her bitchin’ popcorn machine, not relinquishing it when Steve holds out his hands to stack it out of the way in her bedroom.

“I had to bring something, and I didn’t have a lot of notice,” Steve says with a wince.

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s Clint’s gift. And he already knows what it is because he snooped and he’s really excited about it.” Steve wiggles his hands as Dad yells up the stairs that they need more troops.

“You had me unwrap Clint’s gift?” 

“My gift really wasn’t appropriate given the circumstances.” Steve sighs, sitting back on his heels. “I’m sorry, Darce.”

“No, you’re right. It was a weird situation.” Darcy slowly hands over the box. “But did you have to give me such a cool fake gift?”

“Everyone else got clothes, weapons, or art. Any of those would have been difficult to explain in one way or another.” 

“Yeah.” Darcy nods and steps back. “We should get down there. We’ve only got a couple hours until the extended Lewis clan invades.”

“What do they need us to do?”

“Kitchen help for getting ready for dinner, bringing the folding tables in from the garage, bringing in extra chairs, tablecloths, setting the tables, serious nog making, and general girding of loins in preparation for Uncle Leo.”

“That’s the one your mom can’t stand?”

“No one really likes him, but yeah, mom is the worst at hiding it.” Darcy stuffs her hands in her pockets. “I’m kinda impressed you remembered that.”

“I listen,” Steve defends as he gets to his feet.

They stand there looking at eachother for a beat too long. Darcy grimaces, because yeah, they shouldn’t have gone there. A hundred yards of old, frequently recycled disagreements stretch between them ready to reawaken never resolved resentments. 

“Anyway!” Darcy turns on her heel. “We should get down there.”

He brushes his hand over the small of her back while her dad assigns tasks, but she doesn’t look at him, instead giving Travis all her attention as he lays out a game plan for total domination in the kitchen.

Steve is on chair and table duty, and volunteered to help snow shovel the path that led from the extra parking area to the side door.

Darcy is everyone’s helper in the kitchen, grabbing ingredients, washing up cutting boards, checking on whatever is in the oven. She strains spinach for Travis’ much loved spinach gratin, peels potatoes for Nadia’s scalloped potatoes, and is even permitted to keep an eye on the mushrooms and cream simmering for the green bean casserole.

By the time she sees Steve again, it’s with the voices of new arrivals calling out from down the hall. 

She’s over warm from standing over the stove, she has dishpan hands, and her shoulders ache from hunching over the cutting board. The couple hours of a busy mind and busy hands has chased away most of the jitters that had filled her, and her head is clear enough that she recognizes a lot of it was due to dreading the weekend coming to an end. She and Steve are getting on a plane tomorrow, and it’s over.

When Steve finds her, approaching slowly as if testing the waters, she gives him a smile and takes the hand he offers. 

The first wave is the kids. There are four new ones: baby Grace is still strapped in her carrier and Penelope, Wyatt and Andrew run with Darcy’s nieces and nephews. The blowguns have made a triumphant return to popularity. 

Then come the food-bearers. Family with arms too full to do more than make breathless comments about the drive and smack a kiss on Darcy’s cheek as they pass. There’s Darcy’s cousin Harry and his wife Jenna, and Harry’s sister Mallory balancing three baskets of rolls. That covers Uncle Luke’s kids. Uncle Leo’s kids are next, Tim and his wife Naomi and Erica and her partner Julia. 

Then come the generals, those directing the food-bearers about the exact place various travel dishes need to be placed and needing to know when the oven will be free. That’s Uncle Luke, his wife Patricia, and Uncle Leopold’s wife Helen. Uncle Leopold has already disappeared, probably to check that the dining room is set up in a way that meets his standards.

It’s a flurry of greetings and introducing Steve and trying to wipe Aunt Helen’s lipstick off his cheek and assuring Uncle Leo that yes, everyone knows he drinks rum and Cokes, and yes, they have Coca-Cola out in the beverage fridge.  _ Like always _ . Mallory is slightly awkward about widening her eyes and motioning to Steve every time his back is turned, giving Darcy the thumbs up. 

The last push to get dinner ready commences with far too many people in the kitchen and barely controlled chaos. Darcy is trying to simultaneously keep her Aunt Patricia from adding extra salt to everything and keep an eye on Nadia sitting at the island talking to Harry. Harry is a good guy, but Darcy doesn’t want anyone pushing for details just because Nadia seems like she’s got things under control. 

Steve takes over on the sodium watch when Darcy has to help Naomi find some tape for some last minute wrapping. When Darcy gets back to the kitchen, after being waylaid by her Aunt Helen, who wanted to ask if Nadia was  _ really okay _ , she finds Steve looking around nervously as Aunt Patricia talks his ear off, salt shaker in hand.

Rachel is looking on, possibly ready to dive for the salt, when Darcy sweeps back in and asks Aunt Patricia if the rolls are burning. Steve snatches the salt the older woman abandons in her dash across the kitchen, depositing it on top of the cabinets. Darcy stares at the spot for a second, realizing that it’s probably going to be forgotten and discovered years later.

“Nice,” Rachel observes on her way by. “Stay strong, you two.”

Wyatt gets his finger smashed in a door and that requires at least three people checking it out and two retellings of when Nadia broke her thumb at the skating rink on Disco Night. Which leads to the retelling of how 4 year old Darcy wanted a hotdog so bad that she climbed back out of the car, went back inside, and got in line at the concession stand all without her dad noticing in his rush to get Nadia to the ER.

“Ask him what happened next,” Uncle Luke advises Steve as the dishes are finally carried out to the table.

“What happened next?” Steve gamely asks, a smile on his face.

Darcy’s dad sighs. “I could have sworn that she was with us at the hospital, so when I turned around and she wasn’t there, that’s what I told the security officer.”

“They call me at work, they call the police, they put out an alert, the whole shebang,” Darcy’s mom breaks in, bracelets jangling as she gestures.

“In the meantime,” Nana reaches over and pats Darcy’s cheek, “I get a call from the skating rink saying my granddaughter is there and needs a ride. I call Lizzie’s work, I call Lawrence at home, no answer. So! I drive an hour and a half to get her.”

“Her number was the only one I had memorized,” Darcy explains, and she’s a little less underwhelmed by the eightieth re-telling of this story since Steve looks so delighted.

“There she was, sitting at the skate rental booth with a hot dog, a cookie, and a soda bigger than her head. They were letting her take the money for the skate rentals, thought she was the cutest thing.” Nana is smiling at the memory. “I drive her home, empty house. Lawrence came home with the kids, absolutely beside himself, an hour later and here we all are today.”

“I had to call the detective they’d assigned to us to tell him we’d found her, I’d left her at the Skate Corral, and please don’t tell my wife how we got Darcy back, I’ll tell her when she gets home,” Dad finishes. 

“If you ask me-” Uncle Leo starts.

“No one did, Leopold,” Nana cuts him off. “Now let’s eat before all of this goes cold.”

Darcy and Steve end up sitting next to Tim and Naomi. Tim and Naomi are one of Darcy’s favorite couples because they’re complete opposites who got such a bumpy start as a couple. A one-night stand turned into a binding co-parenting agreement facilitated by Nadia’s law office turned into a happy marriage with two kids and three yappy dogs that annoyed Uncle Leo to no end.

Dinner is filled with updates on her cousin’s lives. Mallory broke up with a guy she’d moved in with, who took her couch when he left and skipped out on the rest of the lease. Erica and Julia were thinking about moving to Miami for a job offer for Julia. Harry and Jenna attempted and failed to tile their own bathroom.

There are also some slightly awkward questions about what it’s like living in the tower, and about the other Avengers in general. Steve takes it fine, but Darcy wishes it hadn’t come up at all. At least no one brought up Bucky.

It passes quickly enough, partially helped by Brady loudly announcing his intention to run a 5k. Lewises don’t do recreational sports, and that’s enough to jar most of the table into a new topic.

Darcy and Steve end up talking with Tim and Naomi about their trip to Paris. Naomi loves art, and they’d toured several museums. Darcy’s more interested in hearing about the food, and they break into pairs, Tim indulging Darcy and Naomi hunched towards Steve describing brush strokes and patinas. 

All of that was great. Darcy loves her cousins, and she doesn’t see them nearly often enough. She can’t remember anyone telling her that Jenna was pregnant again. Erica and her girlfriend Julia are always hilarious, they perpetually get into the strangest situations and always seem to come out of them with something like three new friends and a pet hedgehog named Linus. 

What she doesn’t love is the constant comments from Uncle Leo. He doesn’t think much of Steve - seeing as he doesn’t have a real job. That’s one of Uncle Leo’s big things. He’d been a doctor for thirty-five years, and greatly disapproves of any career in the arts, that has irregular hours, or allows someone to work from home. 

Not that having a ‘normal’ career is a free pass either - taking a normal job that pays poorly is just as unfortunate. He’d never respected Uncle Luke’s decision to teach high school either. 

Anyone, but men especially, should strive for providing well for their family and prestige that can translate into power.

“But how do you make a living doing that?” he asks Steve, peering at him over his glasses, lips flattened into a displeased line.

“I get a salary, just like I did when I was in the Army,” Steve answers, and Darcy finds his knee under the table, patting it and trying to calm him.

He’s got that righteously displeased tone coming on, because needling Steve had only been a break from cutting statements directed at Nadia about how she’s such a smart girl, who knows how hard it would be on her kids not to have a father in the house.

Steve isn’t that upset about the comments pertaining to his ability to earn, or even about the shitty passive aggressive comments lobbed at Nadia - not with the entire table taking up for her.

It’s all the words that keep jumping out from Uncle Leo’s mouth. Darcy knows because she can hear them too. She sneaks a glance at him and he’s looking back at her, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Yeah. He’s hearing the same things she is.

‘She’s got a good head on her shoulders’. ‘Sensible’. ‘She’ll do what’s best’. 

Steve had never been demeaning or condescending, but a lot of Uncle Leo’s sentiments echo some of things Steve had said to Darcy over the past few months. 

Imploring for her to see reason when it came to his schedule. Asking her to be the smart woman she is when it comes to not giving her security the slip. Asking her to behave like a mature adult when she ignored his phone calls and refused to see him.

None of it is word for word, and Steve had never been an asshole about it like Uncle Leo. But the words exist in the space between them, unable to be taken back. Darcy retracts her hand as reality intrudes again.

“Leo. Please, dear,” Aunt Helen finally interrupts, and Uncle Leo raises his hands.

Happier topics take over again, along with bartering over the three green beans on Danny’s plate.


	14. Chapter 14

“Darcy.” Mallory grabs one of Darcy’s hands with both of hers. 

The kids have been herded outside, the older adults are having decaf coffee in the kitchen, and Darcy is in the living room with whatever siblings and cousins didn’t get pulled for kid duty.

“What?”

“Don’t what me. Holy shit, what even is Steve Rogers?” Mallory looks over her shoulder, where Steve can be seen in the front yard, helping to build a snowman. Danny had begged him. “If I landed him, I think I’d have to become religious, just so I could thank someone every night.”

Yep. Over the past ten months Darcy had heard a lot of that. How perfect Steve is, how much other people would love to date him. 

“He’s an actual person, Mal. With faults and everything.”

“Does he stab you with his toenails at night while you’re both sleeping?” Rachel asks, peeling the foil off a chocolate coin. “I stab Travis. He complains about it all the time.”

“Does he put empty boxes of cereal back in the pantry?” Clare asks, settling into the corner of the couch with a glass of wine. “I’ve started putting them in Brady’s office, and that makes me feel better.”

“Brady thinks one of the kids is doing that,” Kevin reveals. Clare smiles, looking pleased.

“Does he swear he can handle a little shower re-tiling job and then you end up with a hole from your shower into the hallway for two months?” Harry asks.

“I heard that,” Jenna says as she comes into the room with a tray of steaming drinks. “That was only partially my fault, and what are we talking about?”

“What’s wrong with Steve.” Kevin starts pulling bottles of alcohol from various hiding places around the room. Darcy isn’t sure anyone cares about the cousins’ Christmas afternoon beverage tradition anymore, but they’ve squirreled away Hot Damn and Kahlua on Christmas day for over a decade now.

“Something’s wrong with Steve?” Nadia frowns, following Jenna. The front of her shirt is lumpy and clinks suspiciously. Yeah. The sneakiness has really taken a hit in the sophistication department. 

“Normal relationship stuff,” Darcy clarifies as Nadia turns a concerned look on Darcy. “Like he eats a lot, and he almost always eats my leftover take out.”

“Dump him.” Rachel collapses onto the couch, making grabby hands at the drinks Jenna and Travis are doctoring up.

“Um, have you seen his ass?” Clare demands. Mal holds out a hand for a high five.

“He wakes up super early and works out almost every day.” Darcy really appreciates the way everyone blanches. “He puts the toilet paper on the holder the wrong way. He can never pick a place to eat, but then every place I suggest ‘just doesn’t sound good’. Half the time our dates are canceled because some douchebag is trying to take over the world.”

“Yeah. That last one? Not a normal relationship problem.” Jenna hands Darcy a drink that is inexplicably pink. Peppermint something. It’s delicious. “Plus didn’t you almost get kidnapped last summer?”

“Okay one, stop hacking government records. Two, that was because I knew Thor, not Steve. Three, key word, almost. I totally talked the dude down, and he made friends with my security guy, and now he’s a junior agent.” Darcy nods.

“Still, it sounds like things are a little complicated.” Kevin leans forward, elbows on his knees. His whole competent and in control thing is slightly ruined by the fact that he has about four tags hanging off of him, since he’d pulled on items of clothing as he’d unwrapped them earlier and hadn’t taken anything off yet.

“Don’t vodoo emotion me.” Darcy scowls at him.

“Talking about and processing your emotions is not vodoo, and-”

“Boo!” Several pillows are thrown at him. 

“Enough about me and Steve!” Darcy declares, ignoring Kevin’s searching look. She flicks the Old Navy 14.99 tag on his hat. “It’s time for…..”

Harry provides a drum roll. 

“Hideous Christmas Puzzle 2016!” Nadia finishes. “Prepare yourselves. This year’s selection comes to us from Dallas, Texas. Thank you Ebay seller RuhRoh7979.”

Nadia pulls the puzzle from the side table cabinet with a flourish.

“Oh my god, what is he going to do to the cat?” Harry leans forward, trying to see around Jenna.

The puzzle depicts Santa in someone’s living room, presumably to deliver gifts. He’s shushing a startled cat. Not only is the art so bad that Santa looks terrifying and darkly seductive, the cat looks absolutely horrified. The glint in Santa’s eye is anything but jolly.

“Don’t think I won’t add you to my Support Sisters Whether They Fucking Want It Or Not Dammit Tour 2017,” Kevin says quietly. 

“Is it because I’m your favorite?” Darcy asks hopefully. Kevin always played favorites. Loudly. He’d been very bribable. When he was a kid he was cute enough to get away with it. Sadly, his whole family still thinks he’s pretty cute.

“No. Nadia is my favorite. She stole the rest of the pumpkin pie out of Dad’s secret fridge and gave me half.”

“She found the secret fridge? Where the fuck was it? I sent Steve up into the attic.”

“It was behind the bubble picture in the laundry room.” Kevin finishes off his drink. “There’s a hole in the wall.”

Darcy blinks. The mini fridge moves every year, in an attempt to save at least some pie for after everyone has left. It had been crammed under the sewing desk with fabric draped over it, it had been tucked into the back of her mom’s closet behind the summer dresses, and it had  even been under the crawl space one year. But a hole in the wall?

“He’s been talking about getting a bigger safe. I think it’s gonna go there and he just put off getting the safe so he could hide the fridge there this year.”

“Wow. Does he know she found it?” That’s a pretty legit spot. Her dad had probably had some small amount of hope that his pie-hound kids wouldn’t find it. Maybe he’d be proud though? The pie genes were strong.

“Not yet.” 

“Stop!” Rachel orders, her voice rising above the others. “Edges first! Stop cheating.”

“It’s not cheating, you can’t cheat at a jigsaw puzzle.” Travis flicks a hand at Rachel. “You do it your screwy Lewis way, Clare and I got this. We’re doing the beard.”

“I’m doing the cat. Calico fur over here please,” Jenna says.

“Darcy! Kevin! It’s anarchy, get over here.” Rachel orders. Then she makes a grab for Travis’ beard pieces. Jenna grabs her hand midair.

“Don’t think I won't treat you like one of my kids and put you in a time out chair,” Jenna says. “This is a small window of time that I don’t have to listen to this crap, and the kids could come in at any second. If I can’t drink, I will at least get to enjoy adult centered conversation for twenty damn minutes.”

“I forgot that pregnancy made you mean as hell.” Rachel pulls her hand free. 

Jenna didn’t have too much of a reason to worry. The older kids were absorbed in helping the snow-inclined adults construct an igloo under the big garage light and the younger kids were scooped up by grandparents for a warm bath and an early bedtime.

Eventually the evening comes to an end. Cars are packed, sleeping children are strapped into car seats, and Darcy dispenses hugs and promises to stay in better touch. 

Then it’s herself and her siblings around the table, working to finish up the puzzle. Nana, Mom and Dad turn on the TV, first for the news and then finding a Christmas movie. It’s  _ The Muppets Christmas Carol  _ and Brady repeats most of Gonzo’s lines in a spot-on imitation.

Steve sits next to her, finding pieces with parts of a red ribbon on them so Darcy can try to finish up the pile of presents under the tree. 

Nadia and Rachel quietly argue about Nadia propping her feet on the edge of Rachel’s chair and Mom begins to snore. When Steve leans forward to reach for a piece across the table, ignoring Rachel’s complaints, his shoulder brushes against Darcy’s back.

She leans into him, eyes closing for a second when he remains leaned forward. 


	15. Chapter 15

Steve is waiting when she emerges from the bathroom, once again cozy in her flannel pajamas. She’s not surprised that he picked up on her altered mood over the course of the day.

“I don’t think I can pretend anymore,” Darcy admits. “I mean, I’m really glad-”

“I get it, Darce,” Steve interrupts what probably would have been a long, slightly awkward ramble. She’d really gotten better about those, but she recognizes the jumpy feeling in her chest.

“I don’t.” Darcy rolls her eyes at herself and starts again. “I mean, I don’t see any reason why we can’t sleep in the same bed.”

Steve stops with his hand on his pillow. His eyes flick between hers, and she can tell that he feels the same way. “It  _ is _ Christmas night.”

“Exactly. It’s still the weekend. Plus it’s too cold for you to sleep on the floor.” Darcy glances around the room for her phone. “And, we have to share all of the holiday messages we got. Did Pepper send you a picture?”

“No.”

“Oh, buddy. You’re in for a treat.” Darcy smiles as Steve pulls back the covers for them both. She rescues her phone from the back pocket of her discarded jeans and then leaps onto the bed. “Let it be known that Tony Stark has no fucking idea how to Holiday like a normal person. Did you ever hear about the giant bunny?”

“I did. Rhodey told me. What did he get her this time?” Steve is getting situated next to her. His bare feet bump against her sock clad ones.

“We’re snuggling right? We didn’t just convenient excuse ourselves into bed together to lay awkwardly next to each other all night until we could pretend asleep start cuddling, right?”

“Darcy.” Steve laughs under his breath, then lifts his arm so she can scoot closer. “Okay. Tell me what Tony did now.”

Darcy turns her phone towards Steve.

“Why-” Steve stops. “Why are you showing me a picture of a buffalo?”

“Because Pepper is now the owner of a buffalo farm.” Darcy can’t hide her delight. “And you know what else? They’re Italian buffalo, not American bison. So she doesn’t own a  _ herd  _ of buffalo. The technical term is a gang. A gang of buffalo.” 

“Okay, but there’s a reason,”  Steve tilts the phone back towards him again and shakes his head, “A Stark kind of reason, that he would think giving Pepper a buffalo farm was a good idea.” 

“It gets better, because it  _ was  _ a buffalo farm, but Tony has sheep, goats, and cows on the way.” Darcy waits a second. “You haven’t figured it out?”

“Pepper wanted a farm when she was little? They’re going to take back-to-nature vacations? Clint gave Laura new chickens and Tony’s competitive nature took over after an all-nighter?”

“Those two? Back to nature?” Darcy scoffs. “Cheese, Steven. Pepper loves cheese. The best mozzarella is made from buffalo milk, Humboldt Fog is made from goat’s milk, and Feta is sheep’s milk.” 

“Yeah. Stark reasoning.” Steve sighs. “How did Pepper take it?”

“Honestly, I think she loves it. I think they’re gonna have the highest-tech cheese farm full of the happiest farm animals on earth.” Darcy crams her feet under his leg, seeking warmth. “Now it’s your turn to share. Did Sam’s grandma try to set him up again?”

Steve swipes at his phone a few times then shows her a picture of Sam with a pretty woman, and two older women book-ending them. “That’s Andrea, his grandma is next to him, and Andrea’s grandma is next to her. Their grandmas are church friends.”

“I know that tone, there’s more to this story. Spill.” Darcy nudges him with her elbow.

“Andrea lives in New York where she works as a dental assistant, so their grandmas thought it was perfect.” Steve draws it out, and Darcy wiggles against him. “Andrea is actually SHIELD. She was really embarrassed but Sam convinced her it was fine and that Natasha would think it was hilarious.”

“Seriously?” Darcy laughs. “What are the chances?”

“I know. Now Sam wants to tell his family about Natasha even more, but Nat’s still not ready.” 

“Do you think she’s ever met the fam?” Darcy wonders.

“I would say probably not, but with Natasha you never know.” Steve swipes to another picture, it’s Sam and Andrea in front of the statue the city erected honoring Sam. Sam is standing in front of a giant bronze version of himself in the wing pack, with the wing pack spread wide. The real Sam has his eyebrow cocked with a bashful smile on his face, while Andrea is standing next to him motioning with both hands, beaming. “I do think she’s struggling with her resolve and that’s why she went with Jane and Thor. She couldn’t change her mind once she was gone.”

“Huh. Well, looks like Sam and Andrea had fun anyway.” Darcy leans closer. “And that jerk is wearing the hat I gave him, which means he opened it before Christmas.”

“He has no self control with presents. Don’t you remember his birthday?” Steve swipes again, and it’s the obligatory Sam is in DC and Steve is not, look at these hot dogs we’re both obsessed with, I’m eating two at once just because I can picture.

“I was off world, remember?”  Darcy reminds him.

That’s touching a little too close to real life, so Darcy flicks over to the text Helen had sent which had included Maria wearing a pair of headband antlers. 

They both got the pictures Clint sent of his Christmas, which had included Cooper wearing every bow from the unwrapped presents stuck to his head, Lila practicing with a new crossbow, and a video of Laura skating through the kitchen in a pair of purple roller skates.

After all of the messages are shared, Darcy feels sleep dragging her down. They stayed up way too late finishing the puzzle, and she feels buzzy and tingly from the drinks. 

“Darcy?” 

“Mmm?” 

“I’m glad that I came. I’m glad that we did this too.” Steve says, his voice soft. “I’m sorry that things ever got so-”

“Shhhhh.” Darcy fumbles her hand up his face until she can smoosh his lips. “Don’t ruin it. Besides. We have to wake up in like four hours. Or less. Don’t tell me. I’ve got a full day and half in the lab, remember?”

“Okay. But we’re talking about this later.” 

Darcy says nothing, because she’s gonna avoid that like the plague. She’ll only end up losing her temper again, and saying things she’ll regret later. You can’t be nice to someone who is breaking your heart. Or at least, Darcy can’t. 


	16. Chapter 16

It seems like minutes later that Steve is shaking her shoulder gently, telling her it’s time to get ready to leave. Tony and Pepper are picking them up at the airport in their jet, but they were passing through early because they’re on their way to Pepper’s mom’s annual after Christmas brunch in Maine.

Tony had tried to convince them to go as well, and Darcy is super glad they’d resisted. At the time it was because it was Tony’s first year attending and it was probably good for him to not have as many opportunities to avoid interacting with Pepper’s family. 

Darcy rolls over, and his side of the bed is already cold. He must have already showered and everything.

She pushes her face into her pillow as she realizes she’s going to feel this crappy all day because they had stayed up way, way too late finishing up creepy Santa. 

And now it’s officially the day after Christmas. The end of their holiday. Darcy is pulling a seventy-two hour shift in the lab for an inter-galactic space date with Jane starting in t minus five hours. Jane’s planning on testing different attempts at communication from Asgard, at various pre decided times, and Darcy has to man the machines to make sure she records everything, even if everything is nothing. Again.

“Darcy, are you-”

Steve stops as she rolls over, pushing herself into a sitting position and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. 

“I need coffee,” Darcy mumbles. She pushes to her feet and that dizzy, tingly feeling of disorientation due to far too little sleep overtakes her for a second. Bracing a hand against the wall, she shuffles towards the door.

The coffee pot is already going in the kitchen. Her dad is sitting at the counter with his tablet, probably checking the news.

“Morning, youngest,” her dad leans to see around her, “favoritest daughter.”

“Mmmph.” Darcy pulls down the extra large white mug that had been bought years ago by one of Mom’s co-workers as a ha-ha, since you like coffee so much gag. Joke’s on them, that mug sees a lot of usage.

“I assume you all stayed up too late again.” Dad sips his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. Darcy makes a vague motion on her way to the fridge, not really sure what it’s supposed to mean. “I love that you guys do that. All your grumpy faces in the morning tell me I did something right.”

Darcy turns a bleary look on him. 

“You guys actually like each other. After a weekend in the same house again, sharing bathrooms and competing for stolen pie, and you still stay up late the last night together.”

“It’s too early for emotions,” Darcy tells him, then takes her first glorious sip. 

“Emotions? What emotions?” Mom emerges from the pantry with ten boxes of cereal precariously stacked in her arms, and a blanket thrown around her shoulders. She looks Darcy up and down, then scans the counter. “I hope it’s not too early for basic human decency, Darcy Anne.”

“It’s definitely too early for middle names, Liz,” Dad objects on Darcy’s behalf.

“The least she can do is bring Steve a cup of coffee when she goes back upstairs. And don’t forget that mug in the shower, Darcy.”

“This room is too harsh for me. It’s crushing my creativity and my soul and my-” Mom nudges her out of the way and pulls down another mug. “Daddy, Mom’s traumatizing me so that I never reach my greatest potential.”

“Liz, we talked about this. Save all of the soul crushing for that kid we don’t like.” Dad suddenly straightens and turns towards Darcy. “By the way, just out of curiosity, do you know who stole the pie out of the secret fridge?”

“Good mooorning!” Nadia sails into the kitchen, already showered and apparently even able to smile. 

“How?” Darcy asks as Mom shoves the second mug of coffee into her hand. “How do you function at death o’clock in the morning on three hours of sleep? She’s a robot. From the future. She’s gonna kill one of us for Skynet.”

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy.” Nadia smiles a truly terrifying smile as Mom begins to pour another mug of coffee. “I have children. Sleep deprived is my new normal. I once delivered four dozen iced sugar cookies to the PTA in a matching outfit after forty-eight hours of no sleep with a baby strapped to my chest.”

Darcy looks around the room again. “You’re all terrifying. I’m going to go shower.”

When she passes Brady on the stairs he’s carrying a grumpy Mattie, but he greets her with a quiet good morning. Darcy shudders. 

“Is that for me?” Steve asks softly when she nudges her bedroom door shut behind her, his eyes fastened like lasers on the coffee mugs in Darcy’s hands. He’s got his suitcase open on the freshly made bed, and she can tell he’s carefully organizing and folding everything so it will fit perfectly.

She holds out the smaller mug and he takes it with a groan of appreciation, as he should. 

Good morning. What a vulgar atrocity to foist upon someone, in their own childhood home, before six am.

She digs her travel clothes from her suitcase. On the way into the bathroom she dangles them from one hand, assessing how wrinkled they are after spending the weekend balled up in the corner of her bag. 

Like the irresponsible but intelligent adult she is, she drapes them over the towel rack so they’ll get steamed while she’s in the shower. Then, from experience, she puts her coffee on the  _ inside  _ edge of the bathtub because Rachel and Travis are coffee stealing heathens.

Sneaking sips of her coffee between tasks, she tries to speed through her shower. Darcy Lewis may be late for everything, but even she does not make Pepper Potts wait. No ma’am.

Dressed in her mostly-wrinkle free clothes and with her wet hair tied back in a bun she hurries back into her room to cram everything into her suitcase. Steve looks on as she tosses clothes, gifts, and the  _ Solar Quest  _ board game she’d found in her closet into her bag. He says nothing, which is wise.

She’s leaning over the top of the bag to squish the top down, yanking the zipper around, when Rachel knocks on the bathroom counter. 

“You guys aren’t naked, are you? I wouldn’t mind if Steve is naked, actually.”

‘Hey!” Travis grumbles.

“And I’ve seen Darcy naked. Why did I knock?” Rachel walks in and sighs. “Everyone is dressed. Fine. Anyway, we’re saying goodbye up here because we’re not waking up. We’re just going to watch you guys get on your super cool Stark jet from bed. Cool? Cool.”

Rachel throws her weight with Darcy’s over the top of the suitcase and Darcy finally manages the few gaping inches of the zipper. 

“I’ll send you the money for opening night, okay? It’ll be me, Jane, and Wanda in the front row.”

“Wanda?”

“She really wanted to come. Apparently people still put on shows back in Sokovia when they could.” Darcy explains.

“Okay.” Rachel agrees with a shrug. “I’ll reserve the tickets. But you need to call me, okay? We need to talk about what’s going on with you.”

Rachel speaks low enough that any normal person wouldn’t have been able to hear from across the room. Steve can, but he turns and makes himself busy unnecessarily double-checking his suitcase. 

“I’m fine. But I’ll call.” Darcy pulls her sister into a hug and squeezes her tight. 

Then she’s hugging Travis and Steve gets hugs too before Rachel and Travis shuffle back to bed.

“Ready?” Darcy asks, taking one last look around the room for errant chargers or discarded earrings. 

“I think they stole my coffee.” Steve turns in a circle, brows furrowed.


	17. Chapter 17

Saying goodbye to the rest of her siblings nets her two more extractions of promises to call to talk about what’s got her down, from Nadia and Brady. Kevin just tells her he’s been checking flights to New York.

Her Nana tells her to visit her in Florida anytime, their condo has ocean views. It apparently overlooks a beach volleyball court often filled with ‘hot young things’.

Her parents remind her that she can come home whenever she wants, and her dad makes sure she’s going to talk to at least one of her siblings. And tries to wheedle the name of the secret fridge pie thief out of her one more time.

She’s saved by the jet landing outside. It’s really hard to say no to her dad when he’s all cozy in a cardigan and house slippers. 

“Remember to stay away from death robots!” Mom calls after them, because she still hasn’t let the New Mexico thing go. 

Darcy waves an arm in acknowledgment as she trudges through the snow towards the jet. Steve is carrying both of their bags and walks silently beside her. 

Tony waits at the top of the ramp. “Well, you both look okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darcy asks, ducking inside. The wind is especially sharp and stings her cheeks, and the cabin of the plane is toasty warm. 

Pepper smiles from one of the couches. She’s curled up with a steaming mug of coffee and a blanket.

“When I got Cap’s text Thursday night I thought hell must have frozen over.” Tony looks between them.

Darcy turns to hide her raised brows. Steve texted  _ Tony _ ? So much for supposedly not be able to talk to the other man. 

Not that  _ that  _ tangled mess is her problem anymore. 

Darcy decides to let Steve handle that and heads towards the latte machine as the jet lifts off smoothly. 

“Was it a good trip?” Pepper asks when Darcy claims one of the swivel chairs and her own fuzzy blanket. There’s the slightest hint of concern in Pepper’s voice - the kind that indicates she’s ready to help Darcy ignore the fuck out of a shitfest if that’s what’s needed. Pepper’s good people that way.

“It really was.” Darcy takes a sip of her latte and sighs at the creamy perfection. “There’s some shit going down, but it seems like everyone is handling it like a boss for now.”

“Including you?”

Darcy turns to Pepper in surprise. “Right now I am one hundred percent unable to boss.”

Pepper frowns, eyes flicking towards the back of the jet where Steve and Tony are lingering. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You already saved my life by picking us up. Twenty minutes to New York by Stark Air, an awkward hour and half in public on commercial.” Darcy toes off her boots and they hit the floor with a thump. “What about you? How do you feel about Tony hanging with the fam?”

“Well, my mother loves him. Strangely enough.” Pepper lifts one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “Apparently it runs in the family.”

“He seems good,” Darcy offers. “Steady, at least.”

“He is. He likes having everyone together.” Pepper’s lips curve in a soft smile. 

“What happens at brunch? Is everyone there, or is it a smaller thing?” 

“Only the family Mom likes,” Pepper smirks. “So it’s her great aunt, one of her sisters, none of her brothers but two of their wives, and three of my cousins. It’s catered by her favorite breakfast place.”

“That sounds awesome. I’m curious what kind of criteria your mom has though.”

“My mother has always been hard to please. She doesn’t like people who beat around the bush, people who don’t take responsibility for their actions, or people who don’t live up to their potential.” 

“Well, now she sounds kind of scary. That must have been a lot to have on your shoulders growing up.” 

“It was. She’s an amazing woman, but also a little hard. Nevertheless, the after Christmas brunch is my favorite family event.” Pepper stands to get another coffee and holds out her hand for Darcy’s mug. Darcy gulps the last of her latte and hands it over. “It’s my only chance to see some of my favorite relatives.”

It’s a short flight, and soon they’re being dropped off at the landing pad on top of the tower. Darcy stands watching the roof fold back down after the jet lifts off. 

Then she checks the time on her phone and realizes she’s got half an hour to get the lab equipment running and ready to receive data. 

“FRIDAY?” Darcy calls out.

“Yes, Darcy?”

“Start opening procedures in the lab. And can you put in our science bender grocery order? It’s gonna be a long day.” Darcy cracks her neck, ready to get down to business. Getting lost in science sounds pretty good right now. She’s not ready to go back into find reasons to hate Steve mode.

“Darcy?” Steve’s voice stops her and she spins on her heel, remember her bag.

“Sorry. Let me get that.” Darcy reaches for her bulging suitcase. 

“I can drop it by your place.” Steve looks at her with that intense furrow between his brows. It’s reserved for patriotic speeches at pivotal moments and times when he’s trying to figure out Darcy. “I’d really like to talk.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.” Darcy starts backing away. “Science.”

How many times had that come between them? Because she’s apparently being super cutting and honest right now, she also asks how many times she’d jumped on the excuse.

Not that she’d ever admitted it to herself, especially not when she’d been calling him on the same damn thing with missions.

Yeah. She totally needs a distraction right now. “I’m looking down the barrel of a seventy-two hour shift and I gotta get down there.”

“Later.” 

“Later,” Darcy agrees. 

She feels better the moment she steps into the lab. Even if it’s way too quiet without Jane scurrying around. 

“FRIDAY, some tunes please. And let’s get some Die Hard going.” Darcy starts flipping switches and soon the room is overtaken by both music and an electric hum. “That’s more like it.”

With her Die Hard marathon playing and music blaring, wheeling her chair from one desk to another, Darcy is in another kind of home. She’s been with Jane for five years now. She’d gone from a reluctant poli-sci major with no idea what she wants to do with herself to a published scientist.  

She knows these machines and numbers, she can see them with her eyes closed. They traveled for years, and can set up a lab in less than a day. They’ve worked out of rented lab spaces, an abandoned Swedish fallout shelter, and that closed-down car lot in New Mexico. But they’ve been here for just over a year, and it’s been amazing.

Even without the crazy budget Stark Industries gives them, it’s been good for Jane to have a stable home base. Jane and Thor’s relationship flourished once they could actually spend more than a few weeks at a time together. 

This is where Darcy first met Steve.

Being in this lab helps settle the anxiety fluttering in her stomach. She’s in control here. Even if she messes up, she knows how to fix it. No matter what happens, she’ll have Jane as her partner and they’ve got a six year contract with SI. 


	18. Chapter 18

Darcy comes awake slowly, with the sluggish almost drugged feel that comes from sleeping way too much. Her sense of time is gone, it could just as easily be six on Friday night or four on Saturday morning.

That’s what happens on these kinds of science binges. For days she’d grabbed sleep when she could, sometimes twenty minutes snatched while hunched over her desk, others a couple hours on the lab couch. When the experiment ended, she’d zombie walked herself upstairs, ate  _ very  _ questionable leftover chicken fried rice, showered because she could smell herself with every breath, and then had collapsed in her bed.

Darcy flops her head over, so she can check the nightstand for her phone. It’s not there, and neither are her glasses. 

“FRIDAY?”

“It is four PM, Friday December thirtieth.” The AI answers. 

“Dang, I just realized what a missed opportunity this was. If we’d started this a day later, I could have woken up and not known what year it was.” Darcy scrubs at her eyes, feeling sleep crusted to her eyelashes. 

“Perhaps next year,” FRIDAY answers.

“Yeah, tone it back on the sarcasm, lady.” Darcy sits up. Her glasses are probably on the bathroom counter. Where her phone is, that’s the real question. “Could you put in an order for a meatball sub from Freddies? Extra parm fries.”

“Should I place an order for Captain Rogers as well? He desires to meet with you.” 

Darcy stills. “Did you tell him I’m up?”

“I did.” FRIDAY pauses. “I have observed changed interactions between yourself and Captain Rogers, but I was not instructed to change his personal access to your information or residence.”

“That is correct. I did not do that thing,” Darcy drops her head back and groans pathetically. “Has Tony actually developed life model decoys? Because now would be the time to tell me.”

“I’m afraid my security protocols-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Darcy sighs. There is no way she’s gonna be able to eat during this talk. “Place my order and pay extra for express. Have security leave it in the hall.”

She fights through her too much sleep daze to make a pot of coffee, drinks half a cup standing in the kitchen and refills it, then takes her mug into the shower.

Her stomach grumbles while she’s rushing through her shower routine. She skips shaving her legs again, but takes extra time with her face. Science benders and the resulting crashes never bode well for her skin.

The first sweater she lays hands on turns out to be one Steve got her, and ends up chucked over her shoulder. She finds a pile of fresh laundry on her reading chair and pulls on her favorite Cat’s Meow sweater.

“Is the food here, FRIDAY?”

“It was dropped off four minutes ago.”

“Perfect. Okay, tell Steve I’m almost ready. Where does he want to meet?”

“Captain Rogers has suggested level 77.” 

Ah. Neutral ground. Darcy nods, “That works for me.”

She twists in a circle, looking for a hair band. All of her hair ties always end up abandoned around the lab. She finally finds one on the end table in the living room and hurries to the door. The brown take away bag waits on her doormat, and her eyes almost roll back from the smell as she carries it to the kitchen.

Darcy wolfs her sandwich down, looking exactly like those Hardee's commercials, she’s sure. The beast in her stomach sated, she goes to meet Steve. 

The anger and resentment that had followed their break up is still out of reach for her. It’s fucked off on vacation still, apparently. Which is really unfortunate, because that had been the thing keeping her from begging him to take it all back. 

The humid air of the patio floor wafts into the elevator, almost feeling like a summer day. This floor was supposed to be a rugged terrain training floor, but when Scott and Sam saw the plans they pushed for a recreational greenhouse kind of place. They lobbied effectively, aka got Pepper and Bruce on their side, and the patio floor was born. It has since been a favorite place to hang out, and has been the location for the last two fancy parties Pepper has thrown. And Jane’s kick-ass birthday party.

Darcy follows the walking path towards the cluster of tables near the wall of windows. Big leafed plants block her view, but she rounds the curve in the path and she can see him sitting at the farthest table under the trees. Her stomach twists painfully at the sight of him.

Steve sits with his legs stretched out, and one foot jiggles with nervous energy. It makes her feel better to know that he’s out of sorts too. She passes the hole in the brick patio, where Clint had pried up a brick that he kept catching his toe on.

“It lives,” Steve calls over. 

Darcy feels completely unprepared for whatever this is. She may not be able to drudge up the seething anger of last week, but she’s also at a loss for words. What is she supposed to say here? The sandwich feels like a rock in her stomach. It might have been a mistake.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says when she’s closer, lifting the mug of coffee she’d brought with her. 

The effect of sitting near the windows is a surreal one. They’re surrounded by healthy green plants and it’s warm enough that she pushes up the sleeves of her sweater but snow swirls madly just outside the window.

Darcy takes her seat and immediately takes another sip of coffee. “So is this about New Years? What did you tell Tony?”

She looks up to see him watching her with a tragically sad expression. 

“What? Did something happen?”

“I think we made a mistake.”  Her eyes snap back to him. When she only stares, a muscle ticks in his jaw.

“What kind of mistake?” Darcy asks slowly. 

“I don’t think we should have broken up,” Steve says just as she takes a sip, and it’s all she can do not to choke. “I know that was mostly me.”

“Mostly?” Darcy mumbles as she tries to swallow. Her heart is suddenly pounding in her chest. Internally, she’s screaming at herself to stop fucking objecting and accept whatever this is.  But she also has that  _ fight me _ response that has gotten her in and out of trouble her whole life. “You were the one that brought it up. We were just fighting like always, and then you drop the bomb.”

With Steve that fight me response has mostly led to trouble. He’s so stubborn it’s like fighting a brick wall sometimes. 

“I know,  I regretted it as soon as I cooled down ,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “And you’re right, we’ve been fighting a lot. Too much. But I still think we’ve got something worth fighting for, Darce. Last weekend showed me that.”

“Last weekend was pretend,” Darcy points out, still trying to gather her thoughts. She wants the last weekend all the time too. “It was fake. I agree, you and me, we’re great out in the mountains without the shield or science but that’s not us.”

Steve leans forward. “But it is. Or at least, it’s who we should be together.”

“But we aren’t.” 

Steve drops his head. But he rallies quickly. “I know, but the solution is to work on that, instead of throwing it all away.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about  _ you  _ wanting to fight, but this is not what I expected when I came up here.” Darcy presses a hand to her stomach. She needs some Pepto, stat.  “And you regretted breaking up with me?”

“Almost as soon as I said it, but then you took it and ran with it.” Steve rubs a hand over his mouth. Darcy winces. Yeah, it hadn’t been her proudest moment. But what was she supposed to do? Fall over herself convincing him to stay with her? Hell no.

“If you didn’t want to be with me, I wasn’t going to beg you to change your mind.” Darcy takes a breath to calm a little before continuing. “Especially since you were hardly around anyway.”

“I didn’t have a lot of reasons to try and stay around since you left the planet every time you got mad at me.”  Steve reaches for her hand, then stops himself and instead funnels it through his hair again. “Just tell me if this is something worth talking about. Are you willing to consider it?”

“I can’t fight anymore, and I don’t see how we can change anything. I’m still going to have to spend hours in the lab when the readings go nuts, or head to Asgard when we’re close to something, and you’re going to go when your phone goes off.”

“We can delegate. We weren’t doing a good job of that lately. And I think more of that part is on me. I went a lot of times when Tony could have handled it. And I knew you were upset and I went anyway.” 

Darcy bites back a sharp retort. She’d told him he was doing that, and he’d denied it until he was blue in the face. Steve Rogers, holding grudges?  _ Never!  _ And for some reason that became Darcy’s hot button. Every time he denied something she could see with her own eyes. Instant rage.

“I don’t see how it will work. When you do those things, I get petty. I know it. You blow me off, I agree to set up stuff on Asgard for a month. I know it’s not helping, but I get so mad. And you refuse to talk about it. You refuse to fight with me. So it’s just me dealing with it all by myself.” Darcy shakes her head. 

Despite herself, she’s flooded with desire for all of the things that made being with Steve so great. His snarky sense of humor, only shared with those closest with him. The rare goofy moments, the ridiculous faces he makes, the little tap dance shuffle that follows anytime he drops or breaks something. 

How warm he always is, and how good she sleeps when he’s in her bed. The way she’s come to love the scent of his shampoo because it’s his. And when he’s not off saving the world? He’s the best boyfriend she’s ever had. Trust. Somehow that had come so easy for them, and Darcy had never experienced it in a relationship. 

Not even close. Before Ian, she’d just never gotten there with someone. One vaguely serious relationship sophomore year of college had hinted at a certain level of comfort and stability. And after the shitshow that was Ian? Trust had seemed like something that would be long and hard fought, not something that just grew on it’s own.

“I’m willing to admit that I was wrong, keeping my past from you. I thought that was the best way - that I could leave it locked up and it wouldn’t affect either of us. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you told me it was an issue.” 

“Oh?” Darcy folds her hands together under the table, clenching them tightly. This is so much harder after the weekend. After being happy together for a while. Seeing him with her family, playing with her nieces and nephews, thwarting her siblings attempts to cheat at Monopoly. “So you’re ready to talk about Peggy? And Bucky and Howard and whatever else wakes you up at night?”

It’s everything she can do to not just launch herself over the table at him. Curl up in his lap. A big part of her is all for forgetting the fight a week ago. Pretending that it will be walks out in the city holding his hand, finding candy bars left on her desk, and sharing late night dinners after science and world saving.

That’s what she wants. She wants Steve. Lazy mornings after they’ve both gone too long without sleep. Meeting the others for brunch at Ronaldo’s. Head scratches. Faces drawn on her hard boiled eggs. His mussed spiky blonde head on her pillow when she has to wake up early and he doesn’t. 

“I am. I’m ready to make you my priority.” Steve lays his hand palm up on the table, inches from hers. “I think a lot of my problems with our relationship were things you couldn’t do anything about. I love you Darcy, and I knew you were getting the raw end of the deal.”

Darcy stills as her stomach flips over again. “You thought you were being a shitty boyfriend so your big idea to fix it was to leave me?”

“It’s not like you were making it easy, Darcy. It’s not just me that needs to make a change if we decide to do this.” The corners of Steve’s mouth turn down. “You hold back. You’re always putting the brakes on. I know having a relationship in these kinds of close quarters changes things, and I know you have good reasons for wanting to take it slow but I love you, Darcy. I’m willing to do what it takes to deal with whatever is going on in your head, but you’ve got to help me here.”

She knows what he’s talking about. It had been easy sharing secrets with him. Opening her heart. There had been late night conversations wrapped in blankets and long afternoon ones where his arm had never unwrapped from her shoulders. 

Dating Steve had been easy in that regard. 

She could date Steve forever. But that’s not what Steve is talking about now, and it’s not what he’d been moving towards these past few months. 

He wants the real deal. Steve and Darcy against the world. Commitment with a capital C. He wants Darcy to trust him to take up the slack sometimes instead of powering through on her own. And that’s a whole other kind of trust. The kind that’s really hard to recover from if things don’t work out.

Part of Darcy wants to ask him to just let it go for now. Let them go back to grabbing short lunch breaks and making out in the hall until Jane stomps out and tells Darcy science waits for no woman’s afternoon quickie. 

The rest of her knows that’s not possible. For one, because of who Steve is. She doesn’t think the man has the DNA for a casual relationship. It’s either not working or heading somewhere. Two because she had been a giant bitch, holding it against him when he doesn’t come through for her even as she fights him tooth and nail to keep him back. 

Sometimes his frequent missions only served as an excuse, a good reason to pretend to herself that things weren’t serious. That if things didn’t work out, she’d be one hundred percent fine. 

“We’ve been awful to each other. Mostly me. Mostly I’ve been awful,” Darcy finally says.

“No you haven’t.” She shoots a look at him and he ducks his head. “A little awful, but I wasn’t helping.”

“Relationships are hard enough without avenging and outer space.” 

“That sounded like a yes to me.” Steve’s lips curve a little. She can tell he’s fighting it. He’s failing, and he’s smiling at her. He wiggles the fingers of the hand still laying on the table between them. “Was that a yes, Darce? Will you be my girl?”

Her heart wobbles in her chest. My girl. She knows what the term means to him, and had always managed to dance around it before. 

“On three conditions,” Darcy says, lifting her hand but not putting it in his just yet.

“Done.”

She rolls her eyes. “One, we really do work on this stuff. Talking, you about emotions. Me about insecurities.”

He nods and she puts her hand in his. It feels really good to touch him, and she feels about half the tension seep from her body. “Two, we go find some pepto bismol because I pretty much inhaled a meatball sub in three minutes before coming up here and we watch movies on the couch until my stomach stops trying to wring the grease out.”

He laughs, his other hand coming up to cup to the side of her face, fingers brushing her hair back behind her ear. 

“Three, I get to keep the Death Star popcorn maker.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Epilogue**

 

“Are you okay? Steve’s voice is low in her ear. His hand splays over her lower back. 

“Fine,” Darcy mutters out of the corner of her mouth. She leans back in her seat, trapping his hand between her back and the bamboo chair. His hand slides from her back to her bouncing knee. 

The chair creaks somewhat ominously. The restaurant is kitschy, with fishnets strung from the ceilings and buoys tied to the walls, and it all looks to have been that way since the 80s. Supposedly the hush puppies are to die for, which is why Travis had insisted on dragging everyone here instead of to the strip.

“Uh huh,” he says doubtfully. “I can’t tell if I should get you a fish tank for Christmas or help you make an appointment with a therapist to address your past trauma concerning them.”

“I think I should get a prize for blowing your mind in the hotel room, because how have you not put this together?” Darcy scans the fish tank again. 

“A prize?” Danny asks, suddenly standing next to Steve’s elbow. He’s got a fistful of crayons and half a dozen coloring sheets clamped between his arm and his side.

“Hey pal. What are you doing over here?” Steve asks. 

“Sara and Mattie keep stealing my crayons. They break them.” Danny sets his crayons on the table in front of Steve. Four unbroken ones, and a red one in two pieces. “I wanna sit with you. Will you color with me?”

“Steve loves coloring.” Darcy returns to eying the fish tank. There’s a school of ‘Dory fish’, which had made Cole’s night.

Steve leans close again as he lifts Danny into his lap. “Where are Rachel and Travis?”

“Exactly.” Darcy leans forward, trying to see through the water to the top of the tank.

“You don’t think…” Nadia trails off, leaning forward as well. “Of course they are. It’s Rachel and Travis.”

“The chapel booking was all a ruse,” Kevin adds. “We’re in Vegas. There’s a giant fish tank. It’s got a skeleton pirate holding a sign about his booty. They’re getting married in the fish tank.”

As if on cue, a pair of bedazzled white boots break the surface of the water and scuba Elvis enters the tank. The fish scatter, except for a few brave or curious ones that dart for his boots. 

“Liz! Get the camera!” Dad says, but then immediately reaches for Mom’s purse. “Why didn’t they warn me? But at least they still went with Elvis.”

“Cool it, Dad, look, there’s Meredith with a video dude, she’s getting the whole thing.” Darcy waves to the woman who makes sure Rachel and Travis make their appointments, do their taxes, and return their phone calls. Now she’s directing a guy carrying a professional looking camera that has no doubt been borrowed from one production company or another.

“Keister!” Danny gasps. “Mommy, Nana said keister!”

Darcy one hundred percent knows Nana was talking about Scuba Elvis’ curvaceous rear. That erotic book club hadn’t zapped all of Nana’s sassy reserves. She’d pulled Darcy aside earlier and said how glad she was that Darcy and Steve had worked things out since they don’t make men the way they used to. She’d clarified that she didn’t just mean the packaging, but there had been definite smirkage. 

“That’s another word for butt,” Danny whispers to Steve in delight. “Keister.” 

“Hey pal, look at your Aunt Rachel.” Steve nods a head towards the aquarium. 

Where Rachel is in fact lowering into the tank, a white and blue dress floating around her, tendrils of lace floating in the water, scuba gear strapped to her back.

At which point Katie screams, realizing what’s going on.

Brady grabs her, but he’s seriously cracking up as Katie looks like she’s going to faint. Rachel waves at her from inside the tank.

Travis sinks into the tank, clad in an electric blue tux, complete with a ruffled shirt. Of course Travis bobbles his mouth piece, a flurry of bubbles escaping. 

The ceremony is short, consisting of scuba Elvis holding his arms out in a questioning gesture, Travis and Rachel exchanging overly serious thumbs ups, then rings, and Elvis giving them their own thumbs up along with some rubber legs dance moves. 

Rachel and Travis remove their mouthpieces to exchange a kiss, then do a few windmills with scuba Elvis before waving and swimming towards the top of the tank. 

Most of the restaurant is clapping and cheering. The restaurant does an announcement over the loudspeaker, wishing Rebecca and Travis a beautiful life together and also reminding everyone that tonight is all you can eat jumbo shrimp night. 

“That was perfect,” Darcy sighs.

“Did you hear Nana say keister, Aunt Darcy?” Danny asks, apparently far less impressed by aquatic adventures than euphemism for rear ends. “It means butt, Aunt Darcy. Nana said butt.”

“Don’t forget to tell Rachel they called her Rebecca,” Steve says, twining his fingers between hers when she reaches for his hand. 

“She’ll love it,” Darcy agrees. 

“We’re going to have to get Tony involved if we’re going to top this.” 

“Yeah.” Darcy promptly chokes on her fishbowl margarita. “Wait, what?”

“Or Clint.” Steve says consideringly. 

When Rachel and Travis reach the table, hair still dripping, Mom has already ordered several bottles of champagne. And lots of jumbo shrimp.

And Darcy and Steve are arguing over whether that counted as a proposal or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear a Bucky/Darcy fic will be next. 
> 
> Thanks to certainlynotcricket, moseyrosie, and blue_magpie for the editing and encouragement!


End file.
